Lyrics
Yeah
This beat remind me of back in the day
Sunshine chillin'
Man, tell em about your perfect Saturday

Woke up at ten, no worries at all
Another sunny day in LA, that's time we roll
Hear my homie J 'cause he rolls the blunts tight
Head's still spinnin from the freaks last night
Yea man, you know I got the sticky for sho
And 5 females coming over at 4
I'mma hop in the shower, clean my neck
So I'm the polo sport too to press a stance
Rollin up in the Charger with the suicide doors
Top down cruising as I head to the store
Dreamy house in Bruse, everything that we need
Layin' back to the crib smoking endo weed
It's the perfect Saturday, there's knock on the door
Man these girls a bit early, it's a quarter to four
Man we shoot these freaks I'mma see in my bed
Open the door and see my homie Ned
Oh hey guys, how's it going? Wuddup Ned?
I got 911, need to use your head
That's a no can do, ooh your breath is all hit
Yea, I know , now move, I gotta take a shit
Now one more minute, the bathroom was yours
When we got those fine freaks coming over at 4
Fine freaks?! Okay, dude, play it
I'll just hold it and let out small farts for the rest of the night
Okay Ned, thanks for stopping by
You're welcome
Seriously Ned, it was good to see you
I know
Pete said the freaks are gonna be up any minute
We can do it, let's go
Hey hold on, he's your friend, you should ask him to leave
Because if the freaks come here he cannot be here
Hold on
Shit!
Ah, one second
What time is it?
It's 4, it's them
Who? The freaks?
Yes, get Ned out
Ned you gotta hop out the window
But we're on the 5th floor,
Yes, move like endo
I'm not doing that
Then hit the bathroom on the double
The dubs in my block and you're toyin with some trouble
Look, seriously I'll hold it
I've been in this situation literally hundreds of times
Oh what the fuck?
Oh no
I'm gonna need to borrow some pants
No
We were buzzing why didn't you?
Oh hey ladies
Oh my God it smells like fuckin death in here
Hey freaks!
This place smells like shit
It was them
I'm out of here
Back away
Oh you guys blew it
Well that's too bad but we ain't mad
No I thought we got something to show you
It's down this hallway, we open the stall then
A surprise?
Yea man, something like that
So walk out front and don't look back
What's all this plastic? Were you painting last night?
Don't worry about it, just walk towards the light
It sure is pretty
Yea, sure is
Close your eyes man
You're my only friends
Yea, motherfuckers
You really think you were gonna get out of this without a fart joke did you?
You wack motherfuckers
You pussy motherfuckers
The fuck y'all thinkin?
This is Lonely Island!
Oh cause we got a little paper now?
And you see us on the TV
You think we don't do fart jokes no more?
We were doin fart jokes when you were suckin' ya mama's tit
Ya fart motherfuckers, fuck y'all

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): AKIVA SCHAFFER, ANDREW D. SAMBERG, BRENDAN BRAMMER LONG, DAVID NELSON CRAWFORD, JORMA TACCONE, ROBERT RUSSELL, SIMON MOREL, TOMMY WOODS




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Perfect Saturday
Perfect Saturday
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