Childish Gambino - Phat People feat. Billy Scafuri

One, two, three, check it out On the road to sandwiches and chicken wings Fat people do fat things Using salt and pepper for their seasonings Fat people do fat things Check it out It's B to the I to the double L-Y My friends all know I'm not an ordinary guy I like little things, like chicken wings BBQ sauce, honey mustard onion rings And when my cell phone rings it goes jingle-jing I say hello, I say hello, I say who this be? They say it's Fancy Ned, I got a fancy head I'll eat a fancy ass sandwich on some fancy ass bread The wait is over, shut up, bend over I hang with monsters, I chill with Grover The boy Ebola, my boy fat too And my girl so fat that they call her Oprah I got that green like a bowl of okra Loose change so fat can't fit my sofa I head to the bank, call the shit my grocer It's Sex in the City, get the fat mimosa Me and B, we fat boys, hang with fat girls Driving fat toys, fuck Dan Aykroyd I'm live on a Saturday night I got two fat girls, I'm doing it right Like my name John Goodman I got the fat crib so I'm doing real good, man And I'm up to no good, man This is how I get fat, call the shit cooking Fat people do fat things I tip waitresses, I tip scales My style is kind of fat like an Orca whale I'm sipping whole milk as I stare Thinking I can be your Oprah, you can be my Gail 'Cause I am a fat boy, never been to Bally's Married to this fat life, call me Kirstie Alley Married to the snack life, counting every calorie Might just open up a fat boy art gallery What else you do, B? I'll make it easy What else you do, B? For girls to squeeze me I'm fat but my numbers run Listen son, I'ma show them how it's done When my swagger weighs a ton Stickin' straws inside of girls, you can call me the Capri Sun I make the girls drip, so I guess I eat Gushers Screaming out yeah like I'm eating out Usher In your dad's bedroom where I fuck you Knockin' on the door, so you're screaming out "nothing" But they all know it's something You didn't think I'd tear the pussy up, did you pumpkin? But better and better like Benjamin Button I hang out with Chester Cheeto Cooler than the ranch on your Dorito Hotter than the peppers in your burrito Getting cheddar and cream, if you know what I mean Yeah, I know what you mean, home girl mistaken She think Gambino won't bring home bacon Or bring home Swiss cheese, my dough got holes Cause all these hoes want shoes and nice clothes They want the Macy's, the Neiman Marcus The Fendi purses, the Gucci parkas I know you want it, don't get me started They see Gambino and they act retarded Fat people do fat things Eat snacks, mother fucker, eat snacks Eat snacks, mother fucker, eat snacks Eat snacks coming out of packs Guaranteed to put a little fat on your back Eat snacks This song and the entire album "Poindexter" is a free download at childishgambino.com I typed out the lyrics myself, so leave a comment if you have a correction. Edit And now that I transcribed the lyrics, I see people have just copy/pasted it on all of the lyric websites... You're welcome, internet. AND I STILL THINK "FAT" WORKS BETTER THAN "PHAT" BUT WHATEVER. *Edit 2012-03-31 Just saw a version of these lyrics I transcribed posted at http://rapgenius.com/Childish-gambino... (very cool site, check it out), and apparently it's "I hang with monsters" not "I hang with bar stools" and I'm a bag of shit for hearing it wrong. That does make a lot more sense though, so I'll correct it. :P