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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Mac Miller
Mac Miller
Vocals
ScHoolboy Q
ScHoolboy Q
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Malcolm McCormick
Malcolm McCormick
Songwriter
Evan Ingersoll
Evan Ingersoll
Songwriter
Quincy Hanley
Quincy Hanley
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Chris Gehringer
Chris Gehringer
Mastering Engineer
Chuck Inglish
Chuck Inglish
Producer
Eric Dan
Eric Dan
Mixing Engineer
Josh Berg
Josh Berg
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Uh, ignorant-ass white kid But I'm still bicycling and recycling And I'm still eating Gummy Bear vitamins All my bitches taking Vicodin, huffing nitrogen Hyper than Williams' middle son, since I was A little one, moms had to put me on the Ritalin Made a swisher run, crack the 40 then I lit a blunt Told Chuck I had a couple raps, so we kicked the drums All the best rappers are usually dead But I'm the poison that left a widow Juliet In the studio with candles lit and Buddha heads Coming up with all the coldest shit, take your Sudafed Contagious, speaking while sedated God shit, make 'em want to add a couple pages to the Bible I ain't got nothing left in my will 'cept throw it all in the casket, it's mine still I need some backpack cast raps Took a break just to kill the game half-ass Set some rat traps, went to take a cat nap Woke up, threw the dead bodies in the trash bags Act polite, but I'm nasty on the mic Your bitch don't want my dick, then she has to be a dyke Slap her but she like it, tell me, "Master, feed me pipe" I'm the Scotch on the Rocks, you the Appletini type Bitch Suck my dick before I slap you with it Gees Still fucking with these hoes, though Ozo on these doppelgänger Jojos Take a bitch to Soho for some Froyo Tell her she gone blow it, Romo And now I'm out in Cali like Tone-Lōc Young boy, but I'm chilling with some grown folk No joke, most dope, you just bowl smoke How much coke you got to sell to make a boat float? Hit 'em, hit 'em 'til they tell me "No more" I'm a highly difficult ropes course Pulling up to Rome on a chrome gold horse Say "What's up?" to the Pope, pull off in a Porsche Who you kidding? Your flow's warshed I ain't from the street but I'll grill you from the porch I been had hoes, I play sports Her ass out the bottom of her shorts Bitch Suck my dick before I slap you with it Gees Black James Bond in a white shaft Turned my daughter to a queen, turned a dollar to a dream Flashy as high beams, smoking on good weed Something from kush seeds, the only strand to smoke for us OG's I'm rich car service, no car keys First class flight, 'bout to land on a new bitch She fuck me and swallowed every homie I came with MCM bag and nigga, bet some weed in it 200 dollars worth of Backwoods, we all living Brought the gangsters back to bucket hat, how real is that? I'm getting money, rub my tummy, that's my baller sack Quarter million in a safe in case I get a case Faggot-ass judge hating on me cause my money straight Dropped 10 racks in all 50 states Gone name my next tour Million-Man March Make a nun throw it back while I pull her scarf She gave me head, my nuts touched her cross, boss, Figg side Bitch Suck my dick before I slap you with it Gees
Writer(s): Malcolm James Mccormick, Quincy Hanley, Evan Ingersoll Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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