[Verse 1: M-Boy]

We are the bratty asses kids doing shit you can't imagine
Having fun adults can't handle cause we're fucking off the handle
Gashes needed to be patched back up we're the kids who don't give a fuck
What we're doing nothing much there's always a group of hugs
And a group of thugs and a group of punks
And some fucking hipsters playing a game of twister
We are the fucking gnarley bunch kinda like them brady's uh
Do this cause we're passion-nut kind of like them activist
We smash these fucks you're getting none kill 'em just like a tommy gun
So much fun we are the fun
Aiming to be number one
Yuh

[Refrain]
Too many bottles of this wine we can’t pronounce
Too many bowls of that green, no Lucky Charms
The maids come around too much
Parents ain’t around enough
Too many joy rides in daddy’s Jaguar
Too many white lies and white lines
Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends
Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends

[Verse 2: Frank Ocean]
Start my day up on the roof
There’s nothing like this type of view
Point the clicker at the tube
I prefer expensive news
New car, new girl
New ice, new glass
New watch, good times babe
It's good times, yeah
She wash my back three times a day
This shower head feels so amazing
We’ll both be high, the help don’t stare
They just walk by, they must don’t care
A million one, a million two
A hundred more will never do

[Refrain]

[Bridge]
Real love, I’m searching for a real love
Real love, I’m searching for a real love
Oh, real love

[Verse 3: Earl Sweatshirt]
Close your eyes to what you can't imagine
We are the xany-gnashing
Caddy-smashing, bratty ass
He mad, he snatched his daddy's Jag
And used the shit for batting practice
Adamant Addy thrashing
Purchasing crappy grams with half the hand of cash you handed
Panic and patch me up
Pappy done latchkeyed us
Toying with Raggy Anns and Mammy done had enough
Brash as fuck, breaching all these aqueducts
Don’t believe us
Treat us like we can’t erupt, yup

[Verse 4: Frank Ocean]
We end our day up on the roof
I say I’ll jump, I never do
But when I’m drunk I act a fool
Talking bout, do they sew wings on tailored suits
I’m on that ledge, she grabs my arm
She slaps my head
It's good times, yeah
Sleeve rips off, I slip, I fall
The market's down like 60 stories
And some don’t end the way they should
My silver spoon has fed me good
A million one, a million cash
Close my eyes and feel the crash

[Refrain]

[Outro]
Real love, ain't that something rare
I’m searching for a real love, talking bout real love
Real love yeah
Real love
I’m searching for a real love
Talking bout a real love