clipping. - Inside Out Lyrics






Voilà!
Pullin' rabbit food out a parka
Carrots catch the light right, up the block from the farmer
He got that lettuce, that cabbage, that broccoli
Tryin' to catch a fire
Locks like Marley
That Chevy frame rattling like a Caribbean roof-top in the rain, and the window panes wiggle following suit
And the black suits sell bean pies, and the cream suits shout soap box
And the lime-green suits send angels to the streets with botox (Shh)
Don't talk
Cuz there's rollers in the corner (whoop!)
Football on the blacktop
Little C rush the quarter
Five alligator, six alligator, seven alligator, car!
Game on, till the street lights came on
Crowd out by the Save-On
Paper bags 'round tall cans, talkin' that old manishness like
Damn, when I was 22 I woulda coulda used to be the shit!
By the high-waisted bikini model standee
Two eleven in penny candy

Storm comin'
Everybody inside
It's a war comin'
Stack your bread, get high
Gotta pour somethin'
Out for the homies
Turn that beat up
Get loaded
It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
Murder on the outside, everybody inside
Murder on the outside, everybody inside
Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

Donald Duck, Sunny D, Tampico, Capri-Sun
Orange couch, plastic wrap, What's Happening!! re-run
Oak frame hologram Jesus portrait
Brown shag carpet, broken screen door to the back porch
Pipes in the toilet gurgle every six minutes like clock-work
Grandfather's clock not working
Great grandmama's Crock Pot chocked full of stew meat
'Who, me?' said a speech bubble on a dog on a Sunday morning comic
Clipped and stuck up to the fridge with big chip bag magnet
Big chips stacked in the armoire
Behind glass, where the dominoes and the Bicycle cards are
And the thick yellowing crystal tumblers
One sits on the table
With a single ice cube melting into a thimble full of Jack Daniels
The telephone receiver hangs
Swingin' by the cord
And the front door is swingin'
Wide open, accordingly
And that big block engine turnin' over in the Caprice
That's peelin' out of the driveway, lettin' the tires schreech

Storm comin'
Everybody inside
It's a war comin'
Stack your bread, get high
Gotta pour somethin'
Out for the homies
Turn that beat up
Get loaded
It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
Murder on the outside, everybody inside
Murder on the outside, everybody inside
Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

Orange cones and yellow tape
Palm trees swayin', passers by all look the other way
Nobody speak to police this or any other day
They comb the streets, knock door to door asking for mother's sake
Trying to catch another break
Body on the pavement 'bout 10 steps from the front porch
Photographer snappin' pics to go with the coroners report
Of the seven exit wounds, three in the skull four in the torso
Blood spread dry, red black red snapback even more so
Lays three paces to the south
The direction of the wind
New deputy pissed he picking up shell casings again
Finds one in the browning grass by the sagging four foot high chain link fence
Drops it in a bag marked 'Evidence'
Here come that Caprice again
Rolling too slow up the street men sit four deep in
They seats and slow up by the scene, bandanas hide they faces
But all they heads are shakin'
They nod in unison and hit the corner without brakin'

Storm comin'
Everybody inside
It's a war comin'
Stack your bread, get high
Gotta pour somethin'
Out for the homies
Turn that beat up
Get loaded
It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
Murder on the outside, everybody inside
Murder on the outside, everybody inside
Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride





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Rand Lyrics

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clipping. Inside Out Comments
  1. K.... J....

    hot chocolate from good
    will

  2. K.... J....

    teen idols and squirt gun shirts from maine.

  3. A.... N....

    Wa-lah!
    Pullin' rabbit food out of parker
    Carrots catch the light right, up the block from the farmer
    He got that lettuce, that cabbage, that broccoli
    Tryin' to catch a fire
    Locks like Marley
    That Chevy frame rattling like a Caribbean roof-top in the rain
    and the window panes wiggle following suit
    And the black suites sell bean pies, and the cream suites shout soap box
    And the lime-green suites send angles to the streets with botox (Shh)
    Don't talk
    Cuz there's rollers in the corner (whoop!)
    Football on the blacktop
    Little C rush the quarter
    Five alligator, six alligator, seven alligator, car!
    Game on, till the street lights came on
    Crowd out by the Save-On
    Paper bags 'round tall cans, talkin' that old manishness like
    "Man, when I was 22 I woulda coulda used to be the shit!"
    Or the high-waisted bikini model standee
    Two eleven in penny candy
    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride
    Donald Duck, Sunny D, Tampico, Capri-Sun
    Orange couch, plastic wrap, what's happening re-run
    Oak frame hologram Jesus portrait
    Brown shag carpet, broken screen door to the back porch
    Tykes in the toilet gurgle every six minutes like clock-work
    Grandfather's clock not working
    Great grandmama's Crock Pot chocked full of stew meat
    'Who, me?' said a speech bubble on a dog on a Sunday morning comic
    Clipped and stuck up to the fridge with big chip bag magnet
    Big chips stacked in the armoire
    Behind glass, where the dominoes and the Bicycle cards are
    And the thick, yellow and crystal tumblers
    One sits on the table
    With a single ice cube melting into a thimble full of Jack Daniels
    The telephone receiver hangs
    Swingin' by the cord
    And the front door is swingin'
    Wide open, accordingly
    And that big block engine turnin' over in the Caprice
    That's peelin' out of the driveway, lettin' the tires schreech
    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride
    Orange cones and yellow tape
    Palm trees swayin', passers by all look the other way
    Nobody speak to police this or any other day
    They comb the streets, knock door to door asking for mother's sake
    Trying to catch another break
    Body on the pavement 'bout 10 steps from the front porch
    Photographer snappin' pics to go with the coroners report
    Of the seven exit wounds, three in the skull four in the torso
    Blood spread dry, red black red snapback even more so
    Lays three paces to the south
    The direction of the wind
    New deputy pissed picking up shell casings again
    Finds one in the browning grass by the sagging four foot high chain link fence
    Drops it in a bag marked 'Evidence'
    Here come that Caprice again
    Rolling too slow up the street men sit four deep in
    They seats and slow up by the scene, bandanas hide they faces
    But all they heads are shakin'
    They nod in unison and hit the coroner without breakin'
    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

  4. L.... S....

    This beat is horrible. Flow dope tho. But god damn, get some beats homie.

  5. S.... ....

    The Mozart of the Rap Game!

  6. G.... A....

    Original as hell.

  7. T.... B....

    Its 1 million bitch

  8. R.... R....

    ayyy 1 million leggo

  9. u.... ....

    999,786 views as of the time of this comment

  10. B.... r....

    I could've would've used to be the shit

  11. B.... B....

    Let's get this to 1 mil!!

  12. S.... ....

    Shouts out Save on Foods. Canadian as fuck!

  13. A.... ....

    SO. FUCKING. SICK. …to this day and beyond

  14. v.... m....

    Thanks SoundCloud

  15. r.... ....

    Love the shit out of this.

  16. C.... W....

    So Hamilton was RIGHT!
    He WAS getting high with the French!

  17. G.... ....

    I love clipping

  18. L.... d....

    Damn I wish daveed was my cousin. Or is he......

    L.... d....

    Is...is he

    L.... d....

    famous relative check!

  19. K.... B....

    His style of flow sounds kinda like outkast

  20. P.... U....

    good post

  21. H.... ....

    Tampico reference... The true Goat! 🐐

  22. L.... B....

    yall just ripped off the jawga boyz song 'cant see my paint job' smdh

  23. L.... F....

    I feel like this is an insult to heads

  24. A.... G....

    anyone else come here because of Hamilton?

  25. C.... R....

    *_I just realized to look at the background for clues_*

    C.... R....

    The people on the car of work work are there

    C.... R....

    @Aidan thanks

  26. J.... C....

    Been on the search for math rock meets hip hop. I feel I'm getting closer.

  27. M.... ....

    Yoooo, this is dope

  28. p.... ....

    still can't believe these guys are signed to the same people that signed the shins and cocorosie

  29. M.... ....

    Remember that Daveed acted in a children’s movie about a kid with facial deformities

  30. P.... R....

    WHERE IS HERE AFTER BLINDSPOTTING?

  31. M.... K....

    Normie: Newt Scamander's suitcase.
    A true patrician: Daveed's shirt.

  32. J.... H....

    Wa lAAAaAAaaA

  33. B.... S....

    THE BROOOOCCOLI

  34. p.... c....

    I came from what did I miss and can I say this is DIFFERENT

  35. S.... F....

    When Thomas was off getting high with the French

  36. O.... -....

    I'm so proud of how hard he's worked on his stuff ♥️

  37. N.... N....

    😍😍😍

  38. O.... S....

    Only song in my life I feel bad that I can not turn louder.

  39. s.... ....

    WTF is this? Chomps? @chompsscar does that shit work> no :// fuck. okay well then c:/ CD\Install\dragonslair

    fuckoff,cmd
    //run
    fuckyouokay

  40. s.... ....

    woulda coulda used to be the shit!

  41. T.... ....

    This is madness! I love it!

  42. A.... H....

    Is this what Thomas was doing in France?

  43. A.... ....

    The new season of Durarara looks great.

  44. R.... ....

    This is quite creative... Must've been fun to edit...

  45. j.... ....

    So strong, lyrically. Just amazing writing.

  46. w.... n....

    Holy crap this is amazing

  47. K.... T....

    This is experimental in its finest.

  48. T.... B....

    Boi I'm so confused but I like it

  49. J.... B....

    Who else found this after blackish

  50. B.... D....

    Wa-lah!
    Pullin' rabbit food out of parker
    Carrots catch the light right, up the block from the farmer
    He got that lettuce, that cabbage, that broccoli
    Tryin' to catch a fire
    Locks like Marley
    That Chevy frame rattling like a Caribbean roof-top in the rain
    and the window panes wiggle following suit
    And the black suites sell bean pies, and the cream suites shout soap box
    And the lime-green suites send angles to the streets with botox (Shh)
    Don't talk
    Cuz there's rollers in the corner (whoop!)
    Football on the blacktop
    Little C rush the quarter
    Five alligator, six alligator, seven alligator, car!
    Game on, till the street lights came on
    Crowd out by the Save-On
    Paper bags 'round tall cans, talkin' that old manishness like
    "Man, when I was 22 I woulda coulda used to be the shit!"
    Or the high-waisted bikini model standee
    Two eleven in penny candy

    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

    Donald Duck, Sunny D, Tampico, Capri-Sun
    Orange couch, plastic wrap, what's happening re-run
    Oak frame hologram Jesus portrait
    Brown shag carpet, broken screen door to the back porch
    Tykes in the toilet gurgle every six minutes like clock-work
    Grandfather's clock not working
    Great grandmama's Crock Pot chocked full of stew meat
    'Who, me?' said a speech bubble on a dog on a Sunday morning comic
    Clipped and stuck up to the fridge with big chip bag magnet
    Big chips stacked in the armoire
    Behind glass, where the dominoes and the Bicycle cards are
    And the thick, yellow and crystal tumblers
    One sits on the table
    With a single ice cube melting into a thimble full of Jack Daniels
    The telephone receiver hangs
    Swingin' by the cord
    And the front door is swingin'
    Wide open, accordingly
    And that big block engine turnin' over in the Caprice
    That's peelin' out of the driveway, lettin' the tires schreech

    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

    Orange cones and yellow tape
    Palm trees swayin', passers by all look the other way
    Nobody speak to police this or any other day
    They comb the streets, knock door to door asking for mother's sake
    Trying to catch another break
    Body on the pavement 'bout 10 steps from the front porch
    Photographer snappin' pics to go with the coroners report
    Of the seven exit wounds, three in the skull four in the torso
    Blood spread dry, red black red snapback even more so
    Lays three paces to the south
    The direction of the wind
    New deputy pissed picking up shell casings again
    Finds one in the browning grass by the sagging four foot high chain link fence
    Drops it in a bag marked 'Evidence'
    Here come that Caprice again
    Rolling too slow up the street men sit four deep in
    They seats and slow up by the scene, bandanas hide they faces
    But all they heads are shakin'
    They nod in unison and hit the coroner without breakin'

    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

  51. S.... N....

    I didn't notice the screech in the chorus at first, but once I did I couldn't ignore it anymore and it gives me a headache :'I

  52. #.... g....

    it's confusing to watch the visuals!!!

    but still this is some kickass editing and rapping!! CODOSE!

  53. D.... ....

    It's weird and like I don't understand it very much...But like...I can't stop watching it😂
    I keep asking myself why am I still watching it...But I can't stop😂 I've watched this ten times since yesterday

  54. i.... ....

    CLIPPING IS MY LIFE. DAVEED IS MY LIFE.

  55. b.... ....

    Half these views are mine, honestly.

  56. a.... u....

    who can fit that much shit in a black leather jacket? Daveed can

  57. A.... C....

    OVERVIEW

    LYRICS

    LISTEN

    SIMILAR SONGS

    1 of 4

    2 of 4

    Wa-lah!
    Pullin' rabbit food out of parker
    Carrots catch the light right, up the block from the farmer
    He got that lettuce, that cabbage, that broccoli
    Tryin' to catch a fire
    Locks like Marley
    That Chevy frame rattling like a Caribbean roof-top in the rain
    and the window panes wiggle following suit
    And the black suites sell bean pies, and the cream suites shout soap box
    And the lime-green suites send angles to the streets with botox (Shh)
    Don't talk
    Cuz there's rollers in the corner (whoop!)
    Football on the blacktop
    Little C rush the quarter
    Five alligator, six alligator, seven alligator, car!
    Game on, till the street lights came on
    Crowd out by the Save-On
    Paper bags 'round tall cans, talkin' that old manishness like
    "Man, when I was 22 I woulda coulda used to be the shit!"
    Or the high-waisted bikini model standee
    Two eleven in penny candy

    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

    Donald Duck, Sunny D, Tampico, Capri-Sun
    Orange couch, plastic wrap, what's happening re-run
    Oak frame hologram Jesus portrait
    Brown shag carpet, broken screen door to the back porch
    Tykes in the toilet gurgle every six minutes like clock-work
    Grandfather's clock not working
    Great grandmama's Crock Pot chocked full of stew meat
    'Who, me?' said a speech bubble on a dog on a Sunday morning comic
    Clipped and stuck up to the fridge with big chip bag magnet
    Big chips stacked in the armoire
    Behind glass, where the dominoes and the Bicycle cards are
    And the thick, yellow and crystal tumblers
    One sits on the table
    With a single ice cube melting into a thimble full of Jack Daniels
    The telephone receiver hangs
    Swingin' by the cord
    And the front door is swingin'
    Wide open, accordingly
    And that big block engine turnin' over in the Caprice
    That's peelin' out of the driveway, lettin' the tires schreech

    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

    Orange cones and yellow tape
    Palm trees swayin', passers by all look the other way
    Nobody speak to police this or any other day
    They comb the streets, knock door to door asking for mother's sake
    Trying to catch another break
    Body on the pavement 'bout 10 steps from the front porch
    Photographer snappin' pics to go with the coroners report
    Of the seven exit wounds, three in the skull four in the torso
    Blood spread dry, red black red snapback even more so
    Lays three paces to the south
    The direction of the wind
    New deputy pissed picking up shell casings again
    Finds one in the browning grass by the sagging four foot high chain link fence
    Drops it in a bag marked 'Evidence'
    Here come that Caprice again
    Rolling too slow up the street men sit four deep in
    They seats and slow up by the scene, bandanas hide they faces
    But all they heads are shakin'
    They nod in unison and hit the coroner without breakin'

    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

  58. N.... M....

    I just meet Frank outside the 5 star bar of LA when I am on tour from Bellingham WA

    what the fuck

  59. K.... K....

    0:10 *WhAaALaaahhhh*

  60. K.... K....

    *broOoccoli*

  61. s.... ....

    How does he still look so good without a head

    s.... ....

    skyzamillion idk

    s.... ....

    Daveed magic

  62. A.... R....

    Lyrics copied from Genius
    You can look at the lyrics while listening

    [Verse 1: Daveed Diggs]
    Voilà!
    Pullin' rabbit food out a parka
    Carrots catch the light right, up the block from the farmer
    He got that lettuce, that cabbage, that broccoli
    Tryin' to catch a fire
    Locks like Marley
    That Chevy frame rattling like a Caribbean roof-top in the rain, and the window panes wiggle following suit
    And the black suits sell bean pies, and the cream suits shout soap box
    And the lime-green suits send angels to the streets with botox (Shh)
    Don't talk
    Cuz there's rollers in the corner (whoop!)
    Football on the blacktop
    Little C rush the quarter
    Five alligator, six alligator, seven alligator, car!
    Game on, till the street lights came on
    Crowd out by the Save-On
    Paper bags 'round tall cans, talkin' that old manishness like
    "Damn, when I was 22 I woulda coulda used to be the shit!"
    By the high-waisted bikini model standee
    Two eleven in penny candy

    [Hook]
    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

    [Verse 2]
    Donald Duck, Sunny D, Tampico, Capri-Sun
    Orange couch, plastic wrap, what's happening re-run
    Oak frame hologram Jesus portrait
    Brown shag carpet, broken screen door to the back porch
    Pipes in the toilet gurgle every six minutes like clock-work
    Grandfather's clock not working
    Great grandmama's Crock Pot chocked full of stew meat
    'Who, me?' said a speech bubble on a dog on a Sunday morning comic
    Clipped and stuck up to the fridge with big chip bag magnet
    Big chips stacked in the armoire
    Behind glass, where the dominoes and the Bicycle cards are
    And the thick, yellow and crystal tumblers
    One sits on the table
    With a single ice cube melting into a thimble full of Jack Daniels
    The telephone receiver hangs
    Swingin' by the cord
    And the front door is swingin'
    Wide open, accordingly
    And that big block engine turnin' over in the Caprice
    That's peelin' out of the driveway, lettin' the tires schreech

    [Hook]
    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride
    [Verse 3]
    Orange cones and yellow tape
    Palm trees swayin', passers by all look the other way
    Nobody speak to police this or any other day
    They comb the streets, knock door to door asking for mother's sake
    Trying to catch another break
    Body on the pavement 'bout 10 steps from the front porch
    Photographer snappin' pics to go with the coroners report
    Of the seven exit wounds, three in the skull four in the torso
    Blood spread dry, red black red snapback even more so
    Lays three paces to the south
    The direction of the wind
    New deputy pissed he picking up shell casings again
    Finds one in the browning grass by the sagging four foot high chain link fence
    Drops it in a bag marked 'Evidence'
    Here come that Caprice again
    Rolling too slow up the street men sit four deep in
    They seats and slow up by the scene, bandanas hide they faces
    But all they heads are shakin'
    They nod in unison and hit the corner without brakin'

    [Hook]
    It's a storm comin'
    Everybody inside
    It's a war comin'
    Stack your bread, get high
    Gotta pour somethin'
    Out for the homies
    Turn that beat up
    Get loaded
    It's a murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Murder on the outside, everybody inside
    Inside out now, lock n' load, lets ride

    A.... R....

    Over-Glorified Mary Sue thank you

    A.... R....

    ThatOneGuy no problem ^v^

  63. 1.... ....

    Best fucking lyrisc ever written

  64. a.... ....

    So fuckin good

  65. F.... H....

    Why not.

  66. s.... m....

    fuck i love this

  67. m.... u....

    Does anyone keep hearing "Burr" in the background or is it just me...? 😂

  68. M.... H....

    Sub pop. Sign me!

  69. w.... a....

    Well....its very... creative. I'll admit I started cracking up at all the absurd vegetables falling out of his head though😂 he has a fantastic voice. Well done

  70. G.... T....

    I'd love to see the behind the scenes for this video.

  71. D.... M....

    Was this made by cyriak?

  72. 4.... ....

    "when I was 22 I could'a would'a be the shit!" Beautiful

  73. B.... S....

    this was the song that brought me to clipping, then to Hamilton, and then to Daveed's solo work.
    *this* was where it all started.

  74. N.... S....

    I heard breakmaster cylinder's captain vegetable before hearing this, interesting to see originals after already becoming accustom to the remix. It's like listening to a Laplace transformation.

  75. r.... ....

    ONLY LOVE AND RESPECT FOR MY THIRD PRESIDENT

    r.... ....

    only love and respect for clipping

  76. d.... ....

    M A S T E R P I E C E

  77. N.... S....

    this is catchy af

  78. A.... K....

    HOLY MOLY

  79. B.... ....

    The piano has been drinking by Tom Waits comes to mind

  80. c.... a....

    "man when I was twenty-two I woulda' coulda' used to be the shit!"

  81. F.... ....

    Hats off to the 3D artists and compositors that put this together. It's so simple, yet complex at the same time.

  82. I.... K....

    WCBN 88.3 FM Ann Arbor

  83. A.... �....

    BRO THE FIRST 20 SECONDS ARE SO FUNNY TO ME XD

  84. l.... l....

    so in love with this song

  85. B.... C....

    Absolute genius

  86. m.... ....

    this is low-key dope.

  87. i.... ....

    what is this? xD

  88. r.... ....

    IT'S LIT !!!! 😍😍😍😍 ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ 🔥🔥🔥🔥

  89. E.... B....

    making my way downtown

  90. s.... ....

    I CANT BE THE ONLY ONE HEAR DAVEED MAKING A 'SCERRRRT' NOISE BUT SOUNDING LIKE A DYING BIRD

    I C A N T

  91. N.... U....

    damn when i was 22 i would've could've used to be the shit

  92. N.... ....

    Am I the only one who sees this and immediately imagines Daveed dancing down the street with his face and hair painted greenscreen green?

  93. X.... C....

    This video is so funny becuz there are just so many things coming out of his neck ;'DD

    X.... C....

    what a nuanced way of putting that

  94. z.... ....

    THIS IS MY AESTHETIC????????

  95. W.... C....

    listening to clipping. with headphones is weird. usually songs have the vocals on top of the music, but clipping.'s music is like a sandwich. it goes (in this song at least) ticking-daveed-instrumental-daveed-ticking in a line and not layered

  96. T.... ....

    Didn't expect disney to make movies like this

  97. B.... ....

    this rhyming is actually terrifyingly good
    this man can rhyme anything

  98. S.... H....

    The comic strip from 1:35 is an image from the work work music vid

  99. T.... ....

    I love Daveed Diggs wtf? Clipping is so good???