Correction Lyrics b*tch I Make That Booty Go by Mac Miller

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Lyrics

Get the, f**k outta my face
Byah

I wake up, rub my eyes
Dry vomit on my shirt
The light bulb goes off my conscience is alert
My ex girl hate me and the talkin' never work
My demons have no reason and that monster be the worst
Who lived this life well? I'm possibly the first
Gotta saga, back by popular demand, I been honest man
All my life, it's just the real, it ain't the wrong or right
You think the b*t*hes wanna f**k you 'cause your songs is nice?
Blood stains on my shirt, must had an awesome night
Reincarnate, Ray Charles before he lost his sight
I'm on the mic like, Jordan Nikes, try to sell my soul
But the devil broke, he can't afford the price
Shootin' pornos havin' boogie nights
You a cookie cutter motherf**ker, pu**y type
Sometimes I feel so blue but I'm still lookin' white
sh*t I'm just like you, you said you just like who?
Well I bust right through like enough when you love life too much in a plush white suit, shine what the f**k lights do
And my wife just like her pu**y 'cause she up tight too
Bro this my crib, where I live, who the f**k invite you?
I'm a fat b*t*h addict, love my plus sized boo
I told her roll over that roll over, that's fun times two
Don't get it twisted 'cause these b*t*hes basically love dykes too
I pulled up, pulled out, soon as I come I'm through, sh*t

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