Songwriter: Mac Miller

[Intro]
Aight
Aight, yeah
Yeah
Uh, yo
Uh, yo, yo

[Verse 1]
Easy Mac, but my Mackin' Ain't Easy
The other rappers [?] is so cheesy
You wanna get up to me, the game needs me
I be ya bitch like a beat says, "Please me"
So I don't even know, but I keep on teasing
I just keep on doin' it, it's a Point Breeze thing
I'ma about to do it, it's the trees bring brought
And you's about to get shot
'Cause my shit is lyrical, hit gets sent to you like spiritual
If you wanna do it, I'm a kid in school
Just tryna [?] this shit is so typical, it's pitiful
Shittin' on this chick 'cause I'm hittin' you
I'ma hit you back with some shit, as a matter of fact
Nobody can say what I say, nobody can do that
So I can do that, baby, screw cats
And I'm about to do it, baby, yeah, I knew that
And if you wanna come and get into the room back
I'ma come to you dressed in black, that is how I act
So if you wanna come, you can't even see me or be me
Malcolm McCormick is on the CD, it's so easy
And matter fact, it's Easy Mac
Got some good tree or weed, give me four G's of that
Maybe a little more, get maybe a quarter
And I'm about to do it, lyrical slaughter
I'm about to do it 'cause this shit's like water
I make it rain, I make it pour on you haters

[Interlude]
I make it rain like the Lakers
Yo
Uh
Yo
Easy Mac

[Verse 2]
Yo, it is the war game, playin' you like board games
And I'm just [?], grabbin' more fame
I'm killin' more lames, I'm gettin' more chains
You think you [?], I'm makin' [?]
And if you wanna do it clean like the cocaine or propane
When I explode, you know I know things
'Cause I have wisdom, it's a lyrical prisdom
And if you wanna know 'cause I hate him, I ain't with him
If he did that on Saturday night
I can't tell you shit, you ain't fuckin' askin' me right
You is just investigatin', debatin' if I was doin' shit
Screw you, bitch, I'm about to [?] 'cause you knew the shit
I was right here, that's my fuckin' alibi
You can't do it 'cause you know I'll make the battle-cry
When I come back, I gotta battle rap
Askin' me questions, homie, I'ma battle grap—battle back
That's what I meant to say
But if you think I was serious, I meant to play
So if you wanna make me confuse you or use you
Like a drug, I abuse you, it's what the Jews do
I don't really care, true, boo, word
I don't know 'cause it's the same shit ya heard
Before the shit was word, before the shit float
I do this shit, keep it warm like a coat
I don't even know, the shit's ain't wrote
It's written, that shit is not written
It's just lyrical, free-style spittin'
I ain't kiddin', I'm serious
Make sure ya ears are open so you can be hearin' this

[Outro]
A free-style genius right there, I mean, come on

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.