Mac Miller

Songwriter: Mac Miller

[Intro]
Get the fuck outta my face
Byah (Heh)

[Verse 1]
I wake up, rub my eyes, dry vomit on my shirt
The light bulb goes off, my conscience is alert
My ex-girl hate me and the talkin' never work
My demons have no reason and that monster be the worst
Who lived this life well? I'm possibly the first
Got a saga, back by popular demand, I been a honest man
All my life, it's just the real, it ain't the wrong or right
You think the bitches wanna fuck you 'cause your songs is nice?
Blood stains on my shirt, musta had a awesome night
Reincarnate Ray Charles before he lost his sight
I'm on the mic like Jordan Nikes, try to sell my soul
But the devil broke, he can't afford the price
Shootin' pornos, havin' boogie nights
You a cookie-cutter motherfucker, pussy type
Sometimes I feel so blue, but I'm still lookin' white
Shit, I'm just like you, you said you just like who?
Well, I bust right through
Like a nut when you love life too much in a plush white suit
Shine, what the fuck lights do
And my wife just like her pussy 'cause she uptight too
Bro, this my crib, where I live, who the fuck invite you?
I'm a fat bitch addict, love my plus-sized boo
I told her roll over that roll over, that's fun time two
Don't get it twisted 'cause these bitches' bitches love dykes too
I pulled up, pulled out, soon as I cum, I'm through, shit

[Hook]
This, is, the hook
(Yeah) This, is, the hook
(Yeah) This, is (Yeah), the hook
(Yeah) This, is, the hook
(Yeah)

[Verse 2]
Nobody guardin' this, had it locked up before I started it
Retarded shit, kinda like my father but don't Mark a bit
You see, I make it then they market it
Parked the whip in San Diego, findin' out where Carmen lives
These are my hungover thoughts, I'm so ashamed in Notre Dame
With a hunched over walk, yeah
I like my bitches when they fuck more than talk
And have the halos of an angel hidden up in a box
This evil is the easel that we paint upon
And those divas ain't no divas with no make-up on
I'm in the bed, she give me head like, "What's takin' long?"
I'm like, "It's hard to finish when this fuckin' Drake is on"
But it's my favorite song, I'm concentrated on the chord change
My impure brain, take it all the way, ignore pain
"Why you suck my dick like it's a chore, babe?"
I'ma turn these kids into a short stain
I'm too nice, always givin' you what you like
You can trust me, I'm like Dudley, I always do right
Bitches love me, must be the money, I'm on it tonight
Get the action then send her packed on a JetBlue flight
And nobody wanna fuck with a legend, I be on my shit
On a trip twenty-four seven, if you scared, go to church
I'm the God, I'm the Reverend
Most Dope be the squad that I'm reppin', shit

[Hook]
This, is, the hook
(Yeah) This, is, the hook
(Yeah) This, is, the hook
This, is, the ****

[Pre-Bridge]
Well, get ready
(Here comes the bridge)
Ooh, I hope you're ready
(Here comes the bridge)
Ooh, I hope you're ready, ready
(Here comes the bridge)
I hope you're ready
(Here comes the bridge)
Let's go

[Bridge]
I can sing a song if you want me to sing a song (Woo)
I can sing a song if you want me to sing a song (Say somethin' mean to 'em, baby)
I can sign a song if you want me to sing a song, ooh
I can sign a song if you want me to sing a song
I can sing a song for ya (Keep goin')
If you want me to sing a song, I can sign a song for ya, hey, hey (Woo)
If you want me to sing a song, I can sign a song for ya, hey, hey, hey (Woo)
If you want me to sing a song, I can sign a song for ya, hey, hey
If you want me to sing a song, I can sign a song, you can sign along

[Outro]
Yeah
This that motherfuckin' real shit
Only givin' you that real shit
This that motherfuckin' real shit
Real shit, this that real shit
Real shit, this that real shit
Real shit, this that, this that real shit
Real shit, this that motherfuckin' real shit
That real shit, this that motherfuckin' real shit
That real shit that I told you 'bout
The real shit, real shit
This that motherfuckin' real shit, real shit
Are you ready for some real shit?
That real shit, this that motherfuckin' real shit, woo

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.

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