’82 - ’92 lyrics

[Intro: Mac Miller]
Hey, hey
What up, Term?
Uh-huh, uh-huh
And it go like
I'ma let the beat ride out for a little bit, you know what I mean?
Just so y'all can feel what I'm feelin'
Aight, now that we on the same page
Aight, look

[Verse 1: Mac Miller]
Hey, hey
We be makin' that classic sh*t, rappin' on some Statik hits
Immaculate Mac a spaz and laughin' at all these average kids
Be with the baddest b*tch, style so miraculous
Think 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, tryna take some G's up from me
Yeah, they hate me but they love me, I be sillier than putty
Motherf*cker, y'all be shapeshiftin'
Hate spittin', but with them wack bars
Take pictures with eight b*tches, boy, we some rap stars
Used to f*ck around and just kick it in my backyard
Now I'm on the road, hittin' shows with some bad broads
Me and Term be on that hip-hop sh*t
Surprised this youngin here know what real hip-hop is
Everybody here be like, "Oh, this my ish"
Hey yo, Term, go and kick that sh*t
[Verse 2: Termanology]
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 Spitta for Curren$y, I'm a cash-getter
I smash Twitter and Facebook, you straight shook
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 gon' live it up

[Scratch Hook: Statik Selektah]
Sicker than your average, average
Who's really the sh*t?
1-9-8-2. 1-9-9-2
Si-si-si—sicker than your average, average
Who's really the sh*t?
1-9-8-2. 1-9-9-2
[Verse 3: Mac Miller & Termanology]
I'm better than good, it sounds so now they mad, they hatin' on him
Girlies be waitin', I'm skatin' a figure eight up on 'em
b*tches be makin' me lemonade and cupcakes
Now you on my di*k, b*tch, tell me how my nuts taste
And we like, "f*ck Jake," tryna get this puff cake
We bad boys for real, homie, you trunk space
I'll put a body in a Maserati from the lottie (Hey)
I'm Pacquiao and a Rottie mixed with the Dalai Lami (Hey, hey, hey)
Hey, you mad I ain't as lame as you, eatin' beats like some Asian food
Flowin' that's uncontainable, rooftop, amazin' view
A million rappers in the game, but I'ma make it soon
They spendin' money for me, now I'm pay-per-view (Yo, yo, ayo)
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

[Scratch Hook: Statik Selektah]
Bars sicker than your average, average
Who's really the sh*t?
1-9-8-2. 1-9-9-2
Si—, si—, si—, sicker than your average, average
Who's really the sh*t?
1-9-8-2. 1-9-9-2
[Outro: Termanology]
1982, the album comin' soon
b*tch