Artist: Frank Ocean f/ Andre 3000, Big Boi Album: Pink Matter (Remix) {S} Song: Pink Matter (Remix) Typed by: Cedmaster3K [Big Boi] Remix! [Frank] And the peaches and the mangos you could sell for me... [Frank Ocean] What do you think my brain is made for? Is it, just a container for the mind? This great, grey matter... Sensei replied, "What is your woman? Is she, just a container for the child?" That soft pink matter.. cotton candy, Majin Buu, ooh-ooh-ooohhh.. Close my eyes and, fall into you, you, yoooouuuu... My god, she’s givin' me - pleeeeasure... whoooa-na-na What if the sky and the stars are for show and the, aliens are watchin' live? From the purple, matter... Sensei went quiet, then violent And we, sparred until we both grew tired Nothing mattered.. cotton candy, Majin Buu, ooh, ooh, OOH-oooohh Dim the lights and, fall into - YOU, YOU, YOOOUUU-ohhooooohhh MY GOD, givin' me pleeeeasure~! PLEEEEEASUREEEE.. PLEASURE, pleasure - pleasure over matter... (Heeeeey...) [Big Boi] Doesn't matter if she want to be with me so it's cool I make her call me B.B. King because I give her the +blues+ But not on purpose, though, she was the perfect ho- stess, when I come over, we would do the grossest Most beautifulest things on a bed of roses It would be the coldest when you hit the hardwood floor We sippin' Yak, not mimosas She's in my naked lap, going ham like she supposed to And she could make it clap if I told her Or make her ass spread like the back of a cobra's Down there in her titties like a soldier A G.I. Joe, man; see me, I go in ASK A BITCH, NIGGA... ("Yeah, that nigga goes up in it") Like smoke through a chimney Slow stroke, cause she feelin' me up in her, nigga Killin' me softly, raw dog she wants me Strong and black like her coffee - get off me Act a donkey, I pin her tail to the mattress, I've been a player Make her go from classy to nasty NASTY, NASTY, NASTY, NAAAASTY... {*breathes hard*} to sloosh [André 3000] Since you been gone I been having withdrawals .. You were such a habit to call I ain't myself at all, had to tell myself "naw" She’s better with some fella with a regular job I didn’t wanna get her involved By dinner Mr. Benjamin was sitting in awe Hopped into my car; drove far Far’s too close and I remember my memories no sharp Butter knife, what a life, anyway I’m building y’all a clock, stop, what am I, Hemingway? She had the kind of body that would probably intimidate any of ‘em that were un-southern - not me cousin If models are made for modelin', thick girls are made for cuddlin’ Switch worlds and we can huddle then Who needs another friend!? I need to hold your hand You’d need no other man, we’d flee to other lands {*plays guitar solo*} {*chopped and screwed*} Grey matter... Blue used to be my favorite color Now I ain't got no choice; blue matter... {*singing*} You’re good at being bad (yeah) You’re bad at being good (ohhh) For heaven’s sakes go to hell Kn-knock on wood, heeey You’re good at being bad (you're bead at bein' good) You’re bad at being good (for heaven's sakes go to hell, knock on wood) For heaven’s sakes go to hell Knock knock knock knock on wood Well +Frankly+ when that +Ocean+ so muh'fuckin' good Make her swab the muh'fuckin' wood Make her walk the muh'fuckin' plank Make her rob a muh'fuckin' bank with no mask on and a rusty revolver