Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Frank Ocean
Lead Vocals
Dave Eggar
Cello
Chuck Palmer
String Instrument
Sara Parkins
Violin
André 3000
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Christopher Breaux
Songwriter
James Ho
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Frank Ocean
Producer
Malay
Producer
Om'Mas Keith
Producer
Doug Fenske
Recording Engineer
Matt Brownlie
Assistant Recording Engineer
Chad Carlisle
Assistant Recording Engineer
Jeff Ellis
Recording Engineer
Vlado Meller
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Intro]
And the peaches and the mangos
That you could sell for me
[Verse 1]
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
[Chorus]
Cotton candy, Majin Buu, ooh, ooh, ooh
Close my eyes and fall into you, you, you
My God, she's giving me pleasure
[Verse 2]
What if the sky and the stars are for show
And the aliens are watching live
From the purple matter?
Sensei went quiet, then violent
And we sparred until we both grew tired
Nothing mattered
[Chorus]
Cotton candy, Majin Buu, ooh, ooh, oh, oh
Dim the lights and fall into you, you, you
My God, giving me pleasure
Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure
Pleasure over matter
[Verse 3]
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, "Nah
She better with some fella with a regular job"
I didn't wanna get her involved
By dinner, Mr. Benjamin was sitting in awe
Hops into my car, drove far
Far's too close and I remember my memory's 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
[Bridge]
Grey matter
Blue used to be my favourite colour
Now I ain't got no choice
Blue matter
[Outro]
You're good at being bad, you're bad at being good
For heaven's sakes, go to hell, knock, knock on wood
Hey, hey, hey
You're good at being bad, 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 motherfuckin' good
Make her swab the motherfuckin' wood
Make her walk the motherfuckin' plank
Make her rob a motherfuckin' bank
With no mask on and a rusty revolver
Written by: André Benjamin, Christopher Breaux, Malay