[Intro — hazy, funky psychedelic groove] Yeah… Trippy Dude in the building… Or maybe the building's in me. Either way… I need snacks. [Verse 1 — bouncy rap] Rolled one up, now the room got flavor, Ceiling fan spinning like a disco with a saber, Walked in the kitchen, forgot my mission, Opened up the fridge like I was checking immigration. Milk said, “Bro, you good?” I said, “Probably.” Eggs started laughing, Now the whole shelf's watching me. Got a bag of chips doing laps on the table, I swear that little motherfucker's moving when he's able, Took one bite, heard trumpets in the hallway, Looked outside— It was Tuesday doing ballet. [Pre-Chorus — melodic, floaty] Ooooh… My brain took the day off, Left a note saying, “Back soon.” Ooooh… Now I'm having deep conversations With a mushroom in my room. [HOOK — signature Trippy Dude, psychedelic bounce] I'm in the kush dimension, don't disturb my flight, My brain left a voicemail saying, “Bro, you ain't right.” Got a pocket full of nonsense and a head full of stars, I smoked one little joint and now I'm arguing with Mars. Trippy Dude… I'm somewhere past the moon, Trippy Dude… I made a spaceship out my room. I don't know where I'm going, But I know I'm going high— If reality calls, Tell that bitch I ain't home tonight. [Ad-libs] “Yeah… I'm busy.” “Cosmic business.” “Don't put me on hold.” [Verse 2 — funky rap] Trippy Dude sliding with the sunglasses crooked, Gold teeth shining like the moon got booked in, Cornrows swinging while I'm cruising through the haze, Got a joint so fat it needs its own zip code and name. I made a sandwich— That sandwich made a sandwich. Now we're eating sandwiches And nobody understands it. Put hot sauce on a cookie, Called it culinary art, Took a bite and saw God Playing Mario Kart. He said, “You shouldn't be here.” I said, “Neither should you.” He looked at my plate and said, “…damn, that's actually pretty good.” (Oh shit) (That's spiritual) (Mmm… cookie) [HOOK — bigger] I'm in the kush dimension, don't disturb my flight, My brain left a voicemail saying, “Bro, you ain't right.” Got a pocket full of nonsense and a head full of stars, I smoked one little joint and now I'm arguing with Mars. Trippy Dude… I'm somewhere past the moon, Trippy Dude… I made a spaceship out my room. I don't know where I'm going, But I know I'm going high— If reality calls, Tell that bitch I ain't home tonight. [Bridge — slow psychedelic breakdown] Mmmmm… Floating like a pancake in a swimming pool… Aaaaaah… My thoughts got flip-flops and they're breaking every rule… La-da-da… Why's the moon shaped like a taco? Wait… Why does that taco look like the moon? [Spoken] I need to sit down. [Beat drops] I was already sitting down. [Verse 3 — faster, ridiculous] Squirrel on the fence gave me financial advice, Said, “Buy low, sell high.” I said, “Damn, that's nice.” He stole my peanut, Then disappeared like a thief, Little furry motherfucker Just committed Wall Street. I saw a pigeon wearing what looked like a hat, Couldn't tell if it was fashion or a neurological fact, He nodded at me— I nodded back, Now apparently we're business partners In an underground snack cartel. Got a goldfish in a bowl giving me dirty looks, I said, “What's your problem?” He said, “Read the books.” “What books?” He pointed at the shelf. I said, “Motherfucker… I can't read underwater.” [Ad-libs] “Damn!” “That's deep.” “Literally.” [HOOK — full psychedelic] I'm in the kush dimension, don't disturb my flight, My brain left a voicemail saying, “Bro, you ain't right.” Got a pocket full of nonsense and a head full of stars, I smoked one little joint and now I'm arguing with Mars. Trippy Dude… I'm somewhere past the moon, Trippy Dude… I made a spaceship out my room. I don't know where I'm going, But I know I'm going high— If reality calls, Tell that bitch I ain't home tonight. [Final Breakdown — dreamy, strange] Ooooh… Time ain't real… My refrigerator knows my secrets… Mmmmm… The couch understands me… Aaaaaah… I think my left sock just achieved enlightenment. [Spoken — whisper] Don't judge him. He's been through some shit. [Outro — fading psychedelic groove] Trippy Dude… Floating through the haze… Wait… Who ate all the fucking cookies? … I did. [soft laugh] Damn. I'm good. Cosmic business.
