From the recording Hi, I'm Josh!
Lyrics
Where the hot guys at?
Open up Grindr, I'm hunting for a ten
Trying to find a masterpiece, a sculpture of a man
But it's looking like a clearance bin of bad decisions
Every profile got me losing fucking vision
Got a dude named D-L-Discrete with no pics at all
Just a ceiling fan and half a dirty wall
Talking about "Trust me, I'm attractive," yeah, right
Boy, if you was hot, you'd be posting in the light
Another one cropped from the nose down
Just lips and a beard like a cursed-ass clown
I'm like, "Where your face?" He like, "I value my privacy"
Nah, bitch, you protecting the whole damn tragedy
No face pic, that's a red flag parade
You built like a secret Little Debbie made
If you cute, you'd flex, don't act brand new
You hiding that mug like it owe you rent, dude
[Chorus]
Where the hot guys at? I'm scrolling in pain
All I see is torsos, shadows and grain
I want "Holy shit" when I open that chat
Now why he shaped like a melted Kit Kat?
Where the hot guys at? This app a damn curse
Every tap get worse, I need the damn hearse
If you ain't got a face, I ain't playing your game
No face, no case, I assume you insane
Got a mask-only dude with a pixelated chest
Built like a loading screen that failed the test
Sent me a pic that expired in two
Thank God it vanished, that shit was a jump scare, boo!
One man said, "I don't do face on here"
But he sent twelve pics of his ear
Sir, unless your ear got a jawline sharp
I don't need a fucking tour of your cartilage art
Another dude like, "I'm low-key sexy, just shy"
But his camera angle always aimed at the sky
I said, "Tilt it down," he left me on read
Yeah, 'cause gravity can't fix what God misled
It's always neck down, I know the deal
You hiding a face that could break some steel
I'm not a detective, I'm not Sherlock Holmes
But I know a busted vibe when it text my phone
[Chorus]
Where the hot guys at? I'm begging the app
But it's torso roulette and a blurry-ass trap
I want fine as hell like pause and rewind
Not, “I think I kinda saw his face… that one time”
Where the hot guys at? I'm losing my mind
Got me scrolling through cryptids of every kind
If your profile pic is just abs and a chain
Already know your face bringing pain
At this point, I'm talking to myself like, "Relax"
Then I open one more chat, immediate tax
It's either no pic or a pic from '09
Or a Snapchat filter fighting for its life
[Chorus]
Where the hot guys at? I'm done with the lies
If you fine, you ain't hiding, that's common sense, guys
Stop sending mystery boxes to my phone
I don't need a surprise, I need cheekbone
Where the hot guys at? I'm closing the case
If you won't show your face, I'm escaping the place
Log off, log on, same shit again
Damn, it's ugly season, where the fuck are the men?