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Tyler, The Creator – HOT WIND BLOWS Lyrics


[Intro: DJ Drama]

Ladies and gentlemen

We just landed in Geneva

Yeah, that’s in Switzerland

We on a yacht

A young lady just fed me French vanilla ice cream

We all got our toes out, too

Call me when you get lost

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator & DJ Drama]

I’ma travel the globe, you keep the block hot

Driver, open the door for me, my hand hurt

Finders, we playin’ hide-and-seek with the passports

Where the fuck we at? Oh, the pilot gotta remind us, yeah

The luggage is pilin’, I need a close-to-us (Woo)

So many stinky sit in my wallet, look like a folding chair (Yeah)

The Cartier so light on my body thought I floated here

We boated here, it’s Tunechi and Tyler but call me Baudelaire, yeah

Out in Switzerland, travel with my bitch (Nigga), yeah, we kissin’, dawg

I love when she let me rub her like Michelin (Skrrt, skrrt, facts)

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A hundred grand to sleep on a bird, the wings are whistlin’ like—

Man, they ain’t listenin’

Cross the line like immigrants and benefit from it

Keep on stuntin’ on these niggas, make ’em sick to they stomach, man (I can’t stop it)

Y’all don’t understand, fish so fresh that you could taste the sand

Yeah, we gettin’ lost but we know who we am (True story)

By the, by the, by the some-some-somethin’

Treat that last part like you niggas ain’t sayin’ nothin’

[Break: DJ Drama, Tyler, The Creator & Lil Wayne]

(Hot wind)

Yeah, haha

You see these excursions right here?

Just too lavish to post on the ‘Gram (Gangsta Grillz)

Uh (Tunechi)

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]

Excuse me, pardon me, the wind, it blow so hard to me

Like mother nature arguing about some baby father beef and

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I’m stuck in the middle of the sandwich like slaughter meat

Got my middle fingers to the cameras that’s recording me

From y’all to me, brrt, stop callin’ me unless you’re ordering

I’m on the beach, I got my feet out, and I stay on my feet

The corner beat, I’m on a deep route, just throw the ball to me

Thought all this lean will have me senile, I guess they see now

Let’s touch down, catch a beat-down like I catch touchdowns

I fuck ’round and slow the beat down and take the drums out

The speed of my plum so great, I’ma eat my own flow

And I’m in need of a flaw, may eat me a rapper, I might as well eat me a ho (Oh)

I’m hot as hell when the weather is freezin’ the cold, as the devil and demon and ghost

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I’ma get even and even, get even some more, it’s too late to even get low, baow

Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang, that’s what I need you to know, Mula, Weezy the goat

The wind beneath my wings, Desert Eagle underneath my coat

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, Mula (Bitch)

[Outro: DJ Drama]

(Hot wind)

(All aboard, nigga)

You see

We just over here admirin’ the view of the mountains from the lake

Of course

Y’all know it’s Wolf Haley, man, stop fuckin’ playin’

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