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Can’t Go Wrong
par
Mac Miller
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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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