Correction Lyrics Can’t Go Wrong by Mac Miller

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Lyrics

Let me get that water
Yeah
It's B.DuBB, Easy Mac (We just can't go wrong)
Ha, yo (You got me hypnotized, mesmerized)
Yo
On that swag tip, b*t*h (Haha)

Let me get hype on these fools (Murk 'em, yo)
Yo, robbin' Giant Eagle, [?] the Charles Spiegel
I saw Charles bake in the alley, hoggin' a needle (Whoops)
See, this jam right here goes out for all of my people
Just stand up for ya rights 'cause breakin' laws is illegal
And I [?] than all of the Beatles, all four
I tell hoes to get on all fours
Shе say, "Hit it from behind where thе pu**y is pinker"
So I spanked her, and put my finger inside of her sphincter (Hey!)
Slidin' in, then I'm slidin' out
Tell you, "Turn around," I bust in ya eye or mouth
The night is out, it's Friday, I'm ridin' south
And I'm smokin' fat blunts 'til my high is out
I lie in clouds and rest 'til the date of my birth
Remember money is an issue, so I stayed in my work
But if I quit this sh*t, then maybe I'll get paid on the first
But let me paint a picture, sprayin' like the paint on my shirt
This ain't no taggin', this is baggin' up and flippin' the sh*t
The verse quick like a automatic clip when I spit
sh*t, you want a quick sixteen? Man, I sh*t sixteen
Leave the battleground a sick, sick scene
The sickness seems to run through his blood in doses
It floods furiously what you love, hug the closest, B
'Cause I'ma pull the plug [?]
Leavin' you with a slug in ya mug, it's over, B (Yeah)

It's over, B, there's somethin' hangin' over me
Lace up my sneaks as I'm runnin' f**kin' over these keys
I'm runnin' f**kin' over beats
Fresh off a blunt, nah, this isn't a sober me
This is the high me, watch as I fly by
We ride high, smell the piff as we drive by
But I had to sigh, lungs filled but I'm too strong
Get ya groove on 'fore ya proved wrong
'Cause I gotta screw sh*t in the music
If you think we losin', we'll prove we the choosen
If you need some bruisin', I will f**kin' give it to you
I'll hit it for you, sit back and let me spit it for you
The track is crack, I fiend for the mic
I got girls over my shoulder tryna read what I write
Yeah, the flow's at ease when the hoes [?]
But I'm broke, throwin' cheese just to blow some trees
'Cause the rich get poor [?]
I flow sh*t, spit hits 'til you sick and sore
I'm about to run this sh*t 'cause I'm fit for war
In the battleground spittin', givin' hits galore
Ya fit for more? b*t*h, I don't think you are really
Find us puffin' Dutches, y'all still on the Phillies
'Cause it's back to basics, it's sad, but face it
In the (Yeah) [?] waste to the track, I laced it
I was out gettin' pu**y, y'all just masturbated
I'm the master and you have to hate it
I'm past the greatest, with ill sh*t, and the raps are heinous
I'm blasted, yeah, the kid had to laugh, I made it (Haha)

We just can't go wrong
We just can't go wrong
We just can't go wrong
You got me hypnotized, mesmerized

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