Mac Miller - Gees lyrics

[Verse 1: Mac Miller] Ig'nant-a** white kid But I'm still bicycling and recycling And I'm still eating Gummy Bear vitamins All my b**hes 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 sh**, take your Sudafed Contagious, speaking while sedated God sh**, make ‘em want to add a couple pages to the Bible I ain't got nothing left in my will ‘cept sponsored links Throw it all in the casket, it's mine still I need some backpack cast raps Took a break just to k** the game half-a** Set some rat traps, went to take a cat nap, woke up Through the dead bodies in the trash bags Act polite, but I'm nasty on the mic Your b**h don't want my dick, then she has to be a dyke Slap it but she like, tell me “master, feed my pipe” I'm the Scotch on the Rocks, you the Appletini type b**h [Hook: Mac Miller] s** my dick before I slap you with it Gees… s** my dick before I slap you with it Gees… [Verse 2: Mac Miller] Still f**ing with these hoes, though Ozo on these doppelganger Jojos Take a b**h 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 bold 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 worshed I ain't from the street but I grow you from the porch I been had hoes, I play sports Her a** out the bottom of her shorts [Hook: Mac Miller] [Verse 3: Schoolboy Q] 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… the only strand to smoke for us OGs I'm rich, car service, no car keys First cla** flight, 'bout to la**o a new b**h She f** me and swallowed every homie I came with MCM bag and n***a, 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 Put a million in a safe in case I get a case f*ggot-a** judge hating on me cause my money straight Dropped 10 racks in all 50 states Gone name my next tour Millionaire March Make a nun throw it back while I pull her scarf She gave me head, my nuts touched her cross, boss [Outro: Mac Miller] s** my dick before I slap you with it…