Coachella - Dumbfoundead

This is for all my festival freaks

This is for my festival fleeks

Drink water

Have sex

Smoke a lot of weed

It’s me!

I’m channeling the matador

And I’m sensing all your bullshit

You must think I’m out of luck

Pushing all my buttons, it don’t do shit

Get over yourself

When I’m sober, I’m hell

I hit the keys

I’m talking drugs

No Patti LaBelle

Over deal, can you tell me

My money’s so wavy, I’m rolling the bends

My pockets' Coachella, about 50 bands

About 50 bands

My pockets' Coachella, my pockets' Coachella (about 50 bands!)

I’ma go get her

My pockets' Coachella, my pockets' Coachella

I feel like the Pac hologram

Brap brap brap brap!

Not a damn thing could touch me

Got your girl like the Fresh Prince episode

Crying like why don’t he want me, man why don’t he want me?

This ain’t Uncle Phil though, we talking about some real dough

This ain’t the Screen Actors Guild no

This the shit that we bleed and we sweat and we kill for

I turn the introvert bitch to a sextrovert (she a superfreak)

She’s sending me pictures, please don’t kill the messenger

I’m talking bands more than festival regulars

Festival freaks wearing turquoise and lavender, turquoise and lavender