Released: March 23, 2011

Songwriter: Mac Miller

Producer: Teddy Roxpin

[Intro]
Yeah, ha, yeah, and it goes like
Hey, hey, hey, hey, and I tell 'em, "Fuck you," if you hatin'
So fuck you, we makin' money, bitch
That's all I really got to say
I'm just gonna start rappin' and shut the fuck up
Blaow

[Verse 1]
I said they actin' like they better, but they never been the shit
Hows it feel to have a hundred thousand people on ya dick?
Well, it feels good, homie, you should probably try it
If you never rocked a sold out show, then keep quiet
I gets busy on a track, workin' double time
Tryna find a foreign pussy just to put my tongue inside
I be on the top of the charts, you just an underline
Tearin' through the streets, all these hatin' suckers run inside
Furious, fool probably wanna come and stomp me out
Mad they got a girl, and I'm all that bitch talks about
Been gettin' money since I walked around my father's house
The dads be cop and search when I come and take they daughters out
Paper come in large amounts, I'm eatin' like I should
Surf and turf shit, sink my teeth in somethin' good
They mad I ain't hood, nah, I came to party hard
You grillin' at me, but I smile back, bitch, hardy-har

[Chorus]
Come on down, grab your girl, maybe spin her around
Ain't no other motherfucker gettin' the people this wild
What you want? Some futuristic funk
Tell me what you want, a little futuristic funk
We those kids gettin' cheese, on some Cheetos shit
Just fuckin' for the night, then we leave that bitch
So what you want? Some futuristic funk
Tell me what you want, a little futuristic funk (Hey, hey)

[Verse 2]
So you probably heard I rap a ton, havin' fun
Never have I had a gun
Vomit when I spit like I devoured somethin' bad for lunch
Tryna figure out the way to get me rich, I have a hunch
Like Velma up in Scooby-Doo, confusin' like a Rubix Cube
Usually don't do this, I be stupid, just a nuisance
All you seem to hear about, I'm in ya ear; Q-tip
Yeah, that's dude sick, sleeve with a few tricks
Breathe in a huge spliff, weed come in two zips
You light it, then I burn it, like a furnace when the herb hits
Like it 'cause I earn it, smokin' good veggie turnips
Bitch, I'm fallin' from the sky like bird shit
Makin' movies everywhere I go, call me Ernest

[Chorus]
Come on down, grab your girl, maybe spin her around
Ain't no other motherfucker gettin' the people this wild
What you want? Some futuristic funk
Tell me what you want, a little futuristic funk
We those kids gettin' cheese, on some Cheetos shit
Just fuckin' for the night, then we leave that bitch
So what you want? Some futuristic funk
Tell me what you want, a little futuristic funk, like uh

[Outro]
Like uh, like uh
Yo, Jerm's out there, makin' all this shit sound good
I'm in here talkin' shit
Don't be mad, motherfucker
I'm gettin, I'm gettin, I'm gettin', I'm livin' great, you're not

Mac Miller

Malcolm James McCormick (Jan. 19, 1992 – Sept. 7, 2018), who performed as Mac Miller, was an American rapper and producer from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Since releasing his first mixtape at just 15 years old, he became one of the leaders of the new school of young and highly talented “weirdos.”

Mac’s credibility in the rap game increased ten-fold and resulted in a slew of quality releases, including 2012’s Macadelic mixtape, his second studio album Watching Movies With The Sound Off, and his critically-acclaimed 2014 mixtape Faces.

He had multiple alter-egos, most notably his producer alias Larry Fisherman and his sick and twisted pitched-up persona (à la Quasimoto,) Delusional Thomas.