Can’t Go WrongThe Ill Spoken

[Intro: Beedie & Intro]
Let me get that water
Yeah
It's B.DuBB, Easy Mac (We just can't go wrong)
Ha, yo (You got me hypnotized, mesmerized)
Yo
On that swag tip, bitch (Haha)

[Verse 1: Beedie]
Let me get hype on these fools (Murk 'em, yo)
Yo, robbin' Giant Eagle, [?] the Charles Spiegel
I saw Charles bake in the alley, hoggin' a needle (Whoops)
See, this jam right here goes out for all of my people
Just stand up for ya rights 'cause breakin' laws is illegal
And I [?] than all of the Beatles, all four
I tell hoes to get on all fours
Shе say, "Hit it from behind where thе pussy is pinker"
So I spanked her, and put my finger inside of her sphincter (Hey!)
Slidin' in, then I'm slidin' out
Tell you, "Turn around," I bust in ya eye or mouth
The night is out, it's Friday, I'm ridin' south
And I'm smokin' fat blunts 'til my high is out
I lie in clouds and rest 'til the date of my birth
Remember money is an issue, so I stayed in my work
But if I quit this shit, then maybe I'll get paid on the first
But let me paint a picture, sprayin' like the paint on my shirt
This ain't no taggin', this is baggin' up and flippin' the shit
The verse quick like a automatic clip when I spit
Shit, you want a quick sixteen? Man, I shit sixteen
Leave the battleground a sick, sick scene
The sickness seems to run through his blood in doses
It floods furiously what you love, hug the closest, B
'Cause I'ma pull the plug [?]
Leavin' you with a slug in ya mug, it's over, B (Yeah)

[Verse 2: Mac Miller]
It's over, B, there's somethin' hangin' over me
Lace up my sneaks as I'm runnin' fuckin' over these keys
I'm runnin' fuckin' over beats
Fresh off a blunt, nah, this isn't a sober me
This is the high me, watch as I fly by
We ride high, smell the piff as we drive by
But I had to sigh, lungs filled but I'm too strong
Get ya groove on 'fore ya proved wrong
'Cause I gotta screw shit in the music
If you think we losin', we'll prove we the choosen
If you need some bruisin', I will fuckin' give it to you
I'll hit it for you, sit back and let me spit it for you
The track is crack, I fiend for the mic
I got girls over my shoulder tryna read what I write
Yeah, the flow's at ease when the hoes [?]
But I'm broke, throwin' cheese just to blow some trees
'Cause the rich get poor [?]
I flow shit, spit hits 'til you sick and sore
I'm about to run this shit 'cause I'm fit for war
In the battleground spittin', givin' hits galore
Ya fit for more? Bitch, I don't think you are really
Find us puffin' Dutches, y'all still on the Phillies
'Cause it's back to basics, it's sad, but face it
In the (Yeah) [?] waste to the track, I laced it
I was out gettin' pussy, y'all just masturbated
I'm the master and you have to hate it
I'm past the greatest, with ill shit, and the raps are heinous
I'm blasted, yeah, the kid had to laugh, I made it (Haha)

[Outro: Intro]
We just can't go wrong
We just can't go wrong
We just can't go wrong
You got me hypnotized, mesmerized