Songwriter: Mac Miller

[Intro]
Thank you everybody for coming out
Listenin' to that Easy Mac
Shits for Pittsburgh, that 412
So light up your blunts
We got time for one more
Aight? Yeah
You at the back of the Mac

[Verse 1]
Yo, yo Easy Mac rap slick and sensational
Foolin' fools out they shoes like the first of April
I'm aimin' low, the words guaranteed to make em fold
I'll be remembered next December but your name'll go
My name remains, rhymes sent to your brain
Intentions disdained, these other cats resent and complain
My minds bettin' insane until the lyrics are complete
Spittin' fear in the ears of all those who compete
So I never skip a beat, the kid is Swisher Sweet
You can picture me cheesin' when my album hits the street
With the words too sick to speak, so I spit it in my sleep, fuck
Countin' sheep, I'm about to heat
Proving anybody wrong who was doubtin' me
They say, "Malcolm, please, get a new career"
It appears that they fear who I'll be in a year
Cause I'm creatin' racket, making tracks up in the attic
See my life changed after I heard Illmatic
It was drastic, automatic rappin' fantastic
I'm Jurassic, mic melts like plastic
I got the gift and you wish that you had it
So you study hip-hop and you read how to-do's
Thinkin' that it's helping but you learnin' how to lose
See I was— born gifted, live to get lifted
If rappin' ain't my life then what is it?

[Verse 2]
Yeah, yo, yeah, yeah
Rhymes is my domes home, on a gold throne
Spittin' sick, burnin' holes in the o-zone
I rock clothes that don't fit me, flows that spit quickly
And rip cities, kickin' clouds that hit middies
Cause the Pitt's busy, I'm sorry— you just missed me
I can't bare what you spit cause its grizzly
I kick shit you can't spit, wit, nitwit, sick quick
And let me twist back my Pitt fit
The best yet, blessed to catch wreck
In fresh sweats with more words in less breaths
Your next guest with more swords for pressed pests
The rest sweat for wars and accept— (chyeah!)
I gotta passion for rappin'
I'm passin' up has-beens with passive reactions
You askin' for action? I'm clashin' up your atoms
Your ass'll get flattened, be askin' what happened


[Verse 3]
Yeah, look
I'm sleep deprived, but managin' to keep my mind
And when rest tries to find me, I seek to hide
Bleed from eyes, they been open for too long
My body needs sleep but these demons is too strong
My insomnia lets me spit a monologue
Stayin' up writing as the night is going on and on
Out my mind, I'm a maniac insane with rap
Raises, now my brain describes players playin' haters act
Traitors need to watch they back, cause I know just where they at
Scared of rap, be where I'm at
Lookin' and I'm starin' back'
Hatin' , say ya prayers
And that Pittsburgh is where I'm at
We true hip-hop, we the rarest cats

[Outro]
Yeah, it's Easy Mac
Mackin' ain't easy
Get at me, yo
Pittsburgh, where you at?
Stand up

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.