Songwriter: Mac Miller

[Intro]
Yeah, yeah

[Verse 1]
I'm sittin' in a car full of bitches
Makin' art with 'em, screamin', "Carpe diem"
This is mothafuckin' freedom, ain't it?
I came to free the nation
Do the macarena with a waitress at the Applebee's
Who'd rather be a cheetah, and
One day, I'ma be the greatest, retire my jersey
I'm the people's favorite; Y2K, Nelly, Dream Land, Kirby
Have 'em bow down, how the ground sound? Dirty
I'm way beyond okay, these hoes ain't
Worthy of the nut-bust
Up-chuck flows when I'm fucked up
You want a war? Bitch, I'm Chuck Norris with the nunchucks
Lord of all this funk stuff, somethin' like a oracle, I gotchu
It's kung-fu Keanu, I'm the one, what?
Droppin' like dump trucks, made it through the sadness
What does everybody run from? You marchin' through the madness
I'ma kidnap the rap game, hold the bitch captive
Full of so much regret, I should've been a Catholic
Jewish, Buda, Baptist, cooler than a cactus
You sleepin' on my shit, then I'ma dookie on your mattress
Whoa, and that smell like roses
Just got myself back, run and tell that, homie

[Chorus]
It's only me, myself, and I
That's all I need though
Dreamt I would teach myself to fly
It was just a dream though
When I am all alone, I close my eyes
Turn on the music, blow my mind
Ooh-oh-oh

[Verse 2]
(Yeah) Okay
And in my mind, I'm enormous
Like a giant rhino-saurus or a dinosaur of violent forces
Eyes in the sky, can't find the floor, I'm kinda sorta (Crazy)
The medication got me feelin' all (Wavy)
Yeah, I'm chasin' paper like I'm broke
Never cater to these hoes, the creator of this dope shit
Got my own chef, plus a waiter and a hostess
Hot as the equator, but I'm rarer than the solstice
Don't trip, breath of fresh air if you want it
They always starin' at me kinda like they seen a ghost
Knock 'em out, T-K-O
Gettin' money is the motive and the pussy just a bonus
Flows is explosive, make a girl sweat like aerobics
Yoga, fuckin' king cobra, boa
Constrict no bitch, don't even know her
Belushi in a toga, house full of animals, Jedi, Yoda
Everybody wanna grow up and be Hova
I'd rather be Darwin, Clark Kent
New G-Wagon with the dark tint
Came a long way from sellin' dubs by the park bench
Now we can celebrate, I want this shit forever, mane

[Chorus]
It's only me, myself, and I
That's all I need though
Dreamt I would teach myself to fly
It was just a dream though
When I am all alone, I close my eyes
Turn on the music, blow my mind
Ooh-oh-oh

[Outro]
The music, I can fix you with the music
Do you feel this in the music?
People need to hear the music, the music
The music, I can fix you with the music
Do you feel this in the music?
The people need to hear the music, the music

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.

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From the album