Mac Miller - Bill lyrics

[Verse 1: Delusional Thomas]

And he’s still so delusional

Stupid low as burials at funerals

Fucked the fame, dropped an album

Dipped with the recoupables

My hoodie up, hide my face cause I ain’t not good enough

My bitch stay my bitch, so don’t look

She keep that pussy tucked

Now things are looking up

Recommend the mescaline digesting your intestines

With intentions of a section? up

Heavens no, my head is high cause hell is cold

The bitch I’m smashing into fashion

But I know the devil wear a leopard coat

Back when Johnny Carson was dicking down Dolly Parton

Beg your pardon this my third life

I’m parking on the turnpikes

Searching for the circus lights

These demons never worked for Christ

Ain’t fuckin with no churches, we was all about that murder life

Samurai, murk you like you sure I’m nice

Syrup turn to purple Sprite, you find that shit that we already know

Sick of politickin, as they talkin, trying not to listen

[Hook]

On the real young goon?

Real young goon

I’m a real young goon

[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]

It’s the blackest piece of trash they done seen in a RV park

So holla at your guala if ever you feel your weed sparse, nigga

Salty tee off with us just know that T brought villain

My nigga we all itching to see you drop

I don’t wanna chop it up never fronted like I’m the nicest

Faze him not the slightest, aim stainless tour your iris

Take paper out your pocket, as sure as Toyo tires round

That fucking little schisty clown is back in full effect

Little teeny tiny Sweat, he biting bitches by the neck

Got my fucking dick as long as lists of shit I should regret

I’m just a little bit depressed that’s why the winter fit him best

I guess a little biased to the cold, mix the Ritalin and sess

Because I like the highs and lows and I also like the checks

That I’m siphoning from shows, bitch and triple six the set

Run it back, tight as Corey Duffel pants

Doing niggas dirty as the motherfucking plunging cap

My main and my ex screaming like it’s a habit

I move immune in between ‘em because I’m diplomatic

Catch me in your city passive, cleaning up my shitty act

And bitches say them gritty raps be making up for shit he lacking

Sixes and them kitty cats that got him missing Jerry’s Thomas

Burpin’ words that’s hotter than the pocket where he carry chronic

Very awesome so spare the comments, I’m bi-coastal

Paid and chugging forties you niggas can keep your wine toasted

No high, no moving in that fine dutty wine motion

Load and tell a cop to suck a dick with my fly open, nigga


[Verse 3: Bill]

Look, fuck these written

I don’t watch 106 and Park

I skate through the park in my 106s

Smoke blunts in the dark with some porno bitches

You just see the spark in the blunts like I’m porno flickin

Got the hormones tripping, I’m also dripping

Daily breads tatted on my chest and my torso

And it’s never gonna fade and like me eyes

So I got trip like… eyes wider than Ohio

I’m going global, what you ain’t a local?

Going postal if you think we won’t go through what you won’t do

Watch the throne muthafucka cause we noted you

Older school Most Dope solider I got the pro with tools

Me and Clock get it in like we supposed

Just don’t act like you know us when you see us getting over views

You’re older news, I choose to move over you

I watch like a boat, now I’m colder than a frozen you

You don’t know where we’re going so just hold the news

I never got over fake rappers and the overview

I’m not a rapper, I’m just scolding you

So go home, we folded you

Like Wallace, I’m just holding you


[Outro]

You can’t see me, when I’m rolling

I got that weed nigga, so I’m swerving

Niggas know me in the hood

Niggas call me Tina Turner

Roll a… and get turnt up

Nigga we burnin, bitch nigga






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