Camp Fire lyrics

[Intro: Bill]
Yeah
Ahem
Yeah

[Verse 1: Bill]
You don't got bars that drop, hard to hit
Neighborhood pharmacist
Jarrin' up this haze in the shade to rock cardigans
Center starter, better get your starters sparkin'
It's lemon scented a starter to spend a trend
In the parks of a very tended
I started with every pen then I'm on this sh*t
Late night faze through these tend-to-missing-darker-sins
I'm not startin' with rappers, I'm black Mortus
Mac, your f*ckin' ass hard as the glass of the backboard, and
I'm back for them, see his ass tour and laugh more
If I'm not havin' fun, what the f*ck am I writin' raps for?
I'm the last chord, plug it, I'm comin' with nothin' but this f*cking bruggage
sh*t, I'm that floored
I'm a nuisance, I do this, I've been fluent
But the sin of vins ruin where I been, I been movin'
Ten-for-ten rudest, villain of the park
Give some sense to 'em, pillar of the art

[Interlude: Mac Miller]
Yeah, yeah
Some Point Breeze sh*t, you know?
Ahem
[Verse 2: Mac Miller]
Yeah
A little speed and tequila lead me to beat-makin'
Was my intention to walk that led to freebasin'
Spend a few too many thousand wasted eBay-in'
Watch the trust fall, that's team-buildin' exercises
It's f*ck Everybody Enterprises
You always ten feet ahead, but just a step behind us
I guess I'm fine with lettin' me choose the devil I get to sign with
You wet vaginas, these rappers are softer than fresh bouq' Iris
Obsessed with violence, weapons on deck like dead pirates
Haven't found God yet, the closest that I get is silence
It's never quiet, Satan dwell inside their briefcases
I'm glad we made it, now I'm thankful I'm a free agent
Fresh out of prison, throw the deuces up like Nixon
Tell me, what's the difference 'tween wisdom and superstition?
We just civilians, the villains kiss the infants
Ain't no such thing as coincidence, sh*t

[Verse 3: Ab-Soul]
Yeah
We smokin' stupid blunts but my thoughts ain't dumb
I got ninety-nine problems but a thot ain't one, uh
All my b*tches bisexual and bilingual
I got a bible and a rifle, God, I'm evil
To all these common people, yeah, the heat is brewin'
Kinda like summer school for a UCLA student
That's always true and, yeah, I'm on a roll
This is special education for the honor roll
I'm kinda throwed, like softballs in a league of their own
I've been the sh*t since I could p*ss on my own
You just a toilet bowl, a foil in the microwave
You don't be-long like short film casting calls
Throw your life away
We got that coke that don't get you up in 6-Flags "Roller Coaster Fast Pass"
That's Ab-Soul; don't forget the dash, ho
Put your baton this, no hunnid-yard dash, though
[Outro: Ab-Soul]
Soul