Pre lyrics

by

Mac Miller


[Intro: SK Laflare]
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh
It's money, it's money, it's money
It's money, it's money, all day, all day
Ugh

[Verse 1: SK Laflare]
Baby girl, what you want to do? (Do)
Hop in this 'Cedes, girl (Girl)
She like, "Where we going to?"
A new life, new world (World)
Pop that molly, we hardbody (Body)
Glocks hot as Kemosabe ('Sabe)
He said that he wanted beef
So we fed him hollows and got it poppin' (Got it)
Fear and ego is the enemy (Uh-huh)
You ain't got to pretend with me
I need the wool (Wool), I'ma skin the sheep (Sheep)
And take the bull, skin it to the meat
You full of sh*t, we in too deep
I do this, she knew the deep
Like two feet, Flare two-time
She wanna kick it like Bruce Lee (Ugh)
Brought you in, I'll take you out (Out)
Ball like Tim then I weighed it out
It's no work, we sling through droughts
The life of me, I'm just hangin' out
Don't get comfortable and lay on the couch
I don't wanna see your ass layin' down
Pop that pus*y, twerk somethin'
'Cause most of these b*tches work for nothin'
Paid your dues, while you paid in full
I can't wait to win, you wait to lose
Your mind of a failure, hate rules
When you settle for what you hate to do
I go the extra mile, I'm with the extras
Extended clips shoot through your necklace
Leave you breathless, that Tec is restless
'Cause all my children need the best, b*tch
I need that Rothschild money (Money), the top is sunny (Sunny)
I seen the light (Light), and you blocked it from me (Light)
But I found my way (Way) to the top, I'm comin' (Comin')
Got that smack-dab base (Base), like a rockstar drummer
[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]
I'm a problem to n*ggas
Pop artillery, the carbon is with 'em
Starving to hit 'em, spar with a n*gga
Just watch, I'ma kill 'em all in a minute
It's the ticket-dodgin' aristocrat
New b*tch, whip with the system slaps
Mister slide in and skimp the sack
n*gga hit the function with a pick and axe
My n*gga, miss me with the bullsh*t
Right here, right ear got a pesto blunt
Why that sh*t got a young n*gga Velcro stuck
Why your b*tch go down when the sess go up
Hard as armed services, y'all might have heard of him
Escobarbarian, best call the lawyers up
Bruh, the broad Aryan, know the squad loiterers
Not with the grain and these b*tch n*ggas' wishes
Dealt with addiction
Fell for the b*tch with the pale butter skin who just packed up and dipped
In the land of the rent-less
Stand with my chips in a stack and a grin, f*ck 'em
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