[Verse 1: Mac Miller]
Eating shawarma, doing drawings of Chewbacca
Bumping Flocka, f** the drama
Marijuana’s been as calming as the f**ing Dalai Lama
Your style common as a little league sponsor from a ‘tarded kid’s father
I’m at meetings shaking hands and adding commas to my net worth
Talk about my money please and feelings might just get hurt
This the same effect and less words
Chilling with this a**hole, he call himself Sweatshirt
I think this might be some of my best work
I let these b**hes dive in, but it’s head first
Applying pressure when I put together letters
I’m a king, I’m a myth, beat a b**h down with my scepter
These Fendi treasures feeling better than a million sweaters in Alaska
Your raps are as corny as Nebraska
Lacka-daisical bars, my throw aways will trash ya
High as NASA on acetone
Acid foam, talking trash like John McEnroe
You a little b**h with the f**ing cabbage patch flow
Watch me smack a ho, turn around and catapult off
Up above my castle’s moat, right into my f**ing throne
This man is dapper, manufactured in hell
You candy rappers got damn disasters, myself, I’m chilling
Club house, I’m demanding pa**words so villains can’t infiltrate
This type of lifestyle that one simulates
My b**h is great, had a dinner date with William Gates
He took her to his big estate, the b**h flipped the safe
Escaped through the kitchen bank, dipped it down the interstate
Handed me the money, started s**ing me off
This is a full blown virus, we don’t f** with a cough
Made money off the white without touching the soft, I’m in there
Million dollars, I been there, ’bout a few times
Mulan, she on the futon, tryna do lines
This coupe-I’m… in, highway about a buck fifty
Middle finger out the window, who wanna f** with me?
I told Dom’s and Hodgy, stop popping mollies
Tryna blow up and die: some real kamikazes
Young fisherman sinking in Lake Michigan
Innocence, voice of an angel, so Minnie Riperton
Exquisite b**h, getting lit, live from the Wimbledon
Still sinning this ill pimping is Bill Clinton
She butt-naked swimming, I’m paying for no attention
Workaholic, got a tv show
I know you seen the crib, now she sees the youngin’ rhyme
Sanitary birth, watch a bee get buried in the hurst
See, I k** myself
Mac hippie analog, you rap midi, turn the camera’s off, I make you snap and slap your bandana off
Your b**h greet me like I’m Santa Clause, mouth water
High as a satellite, see
I’m in ancient Greece, getting head from Aphrodite
Mac is mighty, got a bunch of whitey’s acting like me
I set the bar high
This a bizarre ride, word to Pharcyde
In plaid pants, hit a hole-in-one on the Par 5
Eyes closed, drinking whiskey, let the car drive
These hoes thirsty, see the dick and they large-eyed
The rawest rapper, baby forehead autographer
On top of Saturn, I’m sending shots from my rocket blaster
Believe me this is where geniuses live
It’s most dope, be holier than all of Jesus’s kids
But we speaking to heathens and all these even Stevens who don’t need a reason
Just want a b**h that they can feed with semen
Don’t even sleep, the cheeba goin’ keep me dreaming, I’m faded
Been in Cali a little too long, it got me jaded
Hit Japan and I’m Instagraming camera shy samurais
f**ing up a Jerm beat, teach you how to vandalize
The bandana Santana tied
My sound amplified
Screams from Kenny Woods still Phantom ride
My pockets fat, still looking for some pants my size
They overanalyze everything I fantasized
We could have a conersation, we could panamime
Or you could come a little closer, put your hand in mine
This life a prison, time to set you free
Watching movies in silence, describing what I see
Word