82 92 (feat. Mac Miller)

Hey, hey. . . What up, Term? Uh-huh. . . and it go like I'm just gonna let the beat ride out a little bit You know what I mean? Just so you can feel what I'm feeling Alright, now that we on the same page Alright, look. . . hey, hey We be making that classic shit Rapping on some Statik hits Immaculate Mac'll spazz and laugh at all these average kids Be with the baddest bitch Style's so miraculous And you heard me spit But you don't even know the half of it Keep it funky hungry like I need some money Cheeky so my speech is funny Own it like it's bees and honey Tweedle-dee and dummy Trying to take some Gs up from me Yeah they hate me but they love me I be sillier than putty Motherfucker, y'all be shapeshifting Hate spitting, but with them wack bars Take pictures with 8 bitches, boy we some rap stars Used to fuck around and just kick it in my backyard Now I'm on the road, hitting shows with some bad broads Me and Term be on that hip hop shit Surprised this young one here know what real hip hop is Everybody here be like, 'Oh, this my ish' Hey yo Term, go on kick that shit Listen my mellow the metal will turn you into jello Claimin' that you peddle with mettle but never in the ghetto Kill a fellow rapper, immaculate never will I settle With a middle class budget cause buddy I get the cheddar Scrape up you amateurs, babble on when I batter ya Bakin' brownies with hash in 'em, bachelor who be smashin' them Gucci wallet attractin' 'em hoochies always be flashin' them Loosies yo I be stackin' 'em so really I'm imaginin' The wax killer, with Mac Miller my rap's iller Just ask spitter, for currency I'm a cash getter I do a song with you homie and it's a great look My shotty handle is Armani, they all on me Call mami and twist her back out like origami I pour Johnny Walker in my cup Ever since a little pup I knew me and Stat was gonna live it up (Sicker than your average-- who's really the shit?) (1-9-8-2. 1-9-rhymes-too.) I'm better than good it sounds so Now they mad they hating on him Girlies be waitin' I'm skating a figure 8 up on 'em Bitches be making me lemonade and cupcakes Now you on my dick bitch, tell me how my nuts taste. And we like 'fuck jake', trying to get this puff cake We bad boys for real, homie you trunk space I'll put a body in a Maserati from the lottie I'm packing y'all in, a Rottie mixed with the Dalai Lami You mad I ain't as lame as you Eating beats like some Asian food Flowing that's uncontainable Rooftop, amazing view A million rappers in the game but I'mma make it soon They spending money for me, now I'mma pay for you Squash you like a tomato do Burners while high will blaze at you My mami take the pillow and bite it when I be lacin' it It's undebateable Roll around with a hater crew Mac was born in '92 but he rhyme like he from '82 (Sicker than your average-- who's really the shit?) (1-9-8-2. 1-9-rhymes-too) (1982, the album coming soon, bitch!)