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watsky - whoa whoa whoa lyrics

whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you take us for?

i’m a phenomenon and i gotta bring pain in the octagon
when i wanna spit game at a soccer mom
i get it quicker than the left lane on the autobahn
fast, like ramadan, and i battle young padawans all the d-mn day
i’m getting necked and i’m hopping on a wrecking ball
so hot i got that motherf-cker a la flambé
i go to miley’s house, i see that miley’s home
play miley’s ribcage with my d-ck like it’s a xylie-phone
yes, that was highly f-cked up but my skills are highly honed
and if i was highly hyphy i might be more widely known
c’est la vie, better pay my fee
they kick it in seattle in a patagonia jacket, they get it in the bay in a plain white tee
hey mami, you a pyt
wanna see me speak? then i go, go, go, go, go
every time i get a beat i know i gotta beat it up
i bend it then i break it then i chop it and i eat it up
and peta would never approve of the way i’ve been treating the music
i bleed it, i bruise it, i kick it to the curb and then i’m sipping on my bourbon
i be freaking it doing it, keeping it moving
i’m picking apart the muscle when i’m thinking about the hustle but i’m nice, nice

whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you take us for?

i’ll jump the freeway median, i’m savage
’cause my mode is that i’m meaner than the average
like my teacher taught me when i heard the crowd applaud
i thought i was an atheist until i realized i’m a god
it could hurt a bit when i murder sh-t
in a moment i’ll be tying off a tourniquet
when i burn ’em and i hit ’em in the sternum
i don’t even gotta enter but i’m gonna win the tournament
that’s what i’m all about, do what i gotta do and never gonna pout
and i hope that it would’ve been the end of it and i’m out
but they never tend to give me the benefit of the doubt
ever since i was a little kid i know that i’ve been looking for the hot, hot spotlight
and if you really wonder what i think about the compet-tion, they were not, not, not tight
i been reading my scripture
every photobomber wanna be in my picture
and you better bet i’m living every single day like it’s the motherf-cking catalina wine mixer
bada bing bada boom, when i walk in i’m the king of the room
and i get it locked in like a king in a tomb
when i spit a toxin and they cough on the fumes
’cause i’m back in the nick of time and attacking a fickle mind
i’m a jackal, i’ll rip his hide, i’mma tackle him, pick a fight
i be dracula set to bite in the black of the bitter night and i’m out
poof

whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you take us for?

- watsky lyrics

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