Choc n' Berry

Yeah.

Uh.

Dark scoop, pink drip.

Same cone.

Different trip.

*Let's go.*

Dark

bite.

Tight. I'm the bitter in the night.

You're the pink.

Quick. Strawberry on my lips,

right? They go "nah,

y'all don't mix." Cool.

Watch this. Watch this.

I'm the low, slow dough.

You the sweet, cream kiss.

I don't melt easy.

You don't fake a thing.

I'm the cracked bark,

sharp. You the red,

fresh sting. We don't match on paper — nah,

we clash on paper.

But the tongue don't read.

The tongue

just taste the flavor.

You go high (aɪ),

I go low (oʊ),

You say "stay,"

I say "go," Then we meet in the middle where the good

shit grow.

Choco and berry, we don't make sense — But the bite hit

different, yeah, the bite hit dense.

You the tart, I'm the dark,

we the whole damn dessert,

And they mad 'cause they bland and we earned every hurt.

(Say it again) Choco and berry,

we don't make sense — But the swirl hit different when the

two of us blend.

You're the seeds on the skin.

I'm the roast in the pan.

You need sun.

I need shade. We don't share the same plan.

And they go "pick a side" — nah,

I pick both,

'Cause a cake with no fruit is just dry-ass toast.

See, I used to think "same vibe" meant "safe." Then you bit

through the foil, said "babe,

that's a waste."

Now I'm dark, you're bright,

and the contrast is the key,

Not a fix. Not a phase.

Just the goddamn recipe.

I go deep (iː),

you go sweet (iː),

I go slow (oʊ),

you go heat, And the swirl don't ask permission when the two

colors meet.

Choco and berry, we don't make sense — But the bite hit

different, yeah, the bite hit dense.

You the tart, I'm the dark,

we the whole damn dessert,

And they mad 'cause they bland and we earned every hurt.

They want vanilla. Safe.

Same scoop, same cup.

But I chose the stain on my lip.

You chose the bitter that don't quit.

And that's not a flaw,

that's the point, kid.

Dark and pink. Dark and pink.

Same cone, baby.

Different trip.

(Mmm. Yeah.)