[Lyric] RaD1CAl T0tAllY Aw3SuM (Hi-C Touchdown)

[Hook]
Woah, yeah (Hello)
Woah (Hello), yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah (Hello), yeah
Woah, yeah
Woah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Woah, yeah
[?]
[?] shards of the molly rock
Big blade on the chop like [?]
Hit the DMT, nigga beamed right up
[?] and the doors lift up
Ketamine lines like pixie dust
[?] on a pill, make his jaw lock up
All this ice on me like a hockey puck
Backwood pack a punch like uppercut
Running through this guap, got paper cuts
Light a fuckboy up, can't pick him up
Stomp out…
[Intro]
Yeah
Yeah (Yeah)
Yeah (Yeah, hello)
Yeah, yeah (Hello, yeah, woah)
Yeah, yeah (Woah, Heaven or Hell)
Yeah (Let's rock), yeah

[Chorus]
Yeah (Yeah)
How you so radical, totally awesome?
So many racks and we totally off it
So many hoes on me, too many options
So many racks I can't fit in my pocket
All these dead faces, I put 'em in coffins
Fuck up a check 'cause I know that she watching
Stones in the watch like Infinity Gauntlet
Vivienne orb and it look like a comet (Yeah)
Shrooms [?] and my pineal blossom
Gas in the 'Wood and it's green like a Martian (Yeah)
Blunt full of loud got me feeling lethargic (Yeah)
Two-door Porsche and the engine obnoxious (Go)
[?] (Go)
One in the head and the GLOCK is so nauseous (No)
I pull the trigger, the Glocky, it vomit (No)
Groupie hoe keep tryna top me, stop it (No)
Don't check the price, I just see it and cop it (No)
Ooh, you so good but I know that she toxic
Don't give a fuck, I'ma hit it regardless
Christian Dior but we living so godless
Japanese denim, the fuck is he rocking?
Designer bags every time I go shopping
Lean in my cup, nigga, this is not coffee
[Verse]
Woah, yeah
Woah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Woah, yeah
[?]
[?] shards of the molly rock
Big blade on the chop like [?]
Hit the DMT, nigga beamed right up
[?] and the doors lift up
Ketamine lines like pixie dust
[?] on a pill, make his jaw lock up
All this ice on me like a hockey puck
Backwood pack a punch like uppercut
Running through this guap, got paper cuts
Light a fuckboy up, can't pick him up
Stomp out his mans, go pick him up (おかえり)
I don't want your hoe, come and pick her up
Hit the hoe one time from the back, we done
Rock YEEZY boots, kicking shit like punts
Diamonds red and white like a fire truck
Got grams in the 'Wood, look like tree trunk
[?]
In the rave geeked up on the molly chunks
In the Porsche two-door [?]
Niggas nodding off on the Hi-Tech slush
I'ma hit his bae, hit his woman crush
[?]
[?]
[?]
Hi-C juiced up, yeah, pretty much
Want a young rich nigga, she don't fuck with bums
[?]
Tryna hit my blunt, bitch, are you dumb?
You don't got no guap, go and get you some
You don't got no GLOCK, go and get you one
Yeah, [?], Hi-Tech my soul
Hi-C rock out, yeah, totally, dude
Fuck on bad hoes, yeah, I totally do
She want Hi-C 'cause she know I'm that dude
Got a bad bitch and she from the UK
She said, "Hi-C, you totally [?]"
She give me top and I nut on her face
[Chorus]
Yeah
How you so radical, totally awesome?
So many racks and we totally off it
So many hoes on me, too many options
So many racks I can't fit in my pocket
All these dead faces, I put 'em in coffins
Fuck up a check 'cause I know that she watching
Stones in the watch like Infinity Gauntlet
Vivienne orb and it look like a comet
Shrooms [?] and my pineal blossom
Gas in the 'Wood and it's green like a Martian
Blunt full of loud got me feeling lethargic
Two-door Porsche and the engine obnoxious
[?]
One in the head and the GLOCK is so nauseous
I pull the trigger, the Glocky, it vomit
Groupie hoe keep tryna top me, stop it
Don't check the price, I just see it and cop it
Ooh, you so good but I know that she toxic
Don't give a fuck, I'ma hit it regardless
Christian Dior but we living so godless
Japanese denim, the fuck is he rocking?
Designer bags every time I go shopping
Lean in my cup, nigga, this is not coffee (There's no turning back)