lirik lagu mac miller - lights low
[intro]
a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low (a hundred bad b~tches in the room)
got a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low, ho (a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low)
a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low, lights low (a hundred bad b~tches)
got a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low, ho
oh, la~la~la~la~la~la~la~la~la~la~la
[?] tongue [?], yah
[verse 1]
when i rap on the beat, sit back in your seat (woah)
chill out with a sack of the weed, stompin’ your hands, clappin’ your feet (l~l~low)
do it all backwards with me
started out in this underground, recordin’ sh~t in my bas~m~nt (uh~huh)
now it’s just around a hundred thou’ to see me rockin’ them stages (let’s go)
b~back pain, i got mass trains in the cash game on this fast train
my rap name is kinda plain, got bad aim but i’m tryna change
get brain [?] b~tch, headbang like [?] (rock)
[?] show love, don’t lie with hatred
you rockin’ with a motherf~ckin’ g~nius way before his prime (prime)
that p~ssy razor burn borderline porcupine
just pourin’ time with a mortifyin’ foreign dime
she just got off work, doin’ a 4~to~9 (woah)
corporate slime want a fourth of mine, you lost your mind (f~cked up)
a lot of wine in a concubine (true, true)
uh, ain’t no motherf~cker that can beat me (no)
flow on the go like the wee~wee (smoke)
ain’t a b~tch got a easy (throat)
don’t buy me [?]
you got bread, she need a loaf
she a journalist, she need a quote
smell weed, the coat, evil hoes
see, i’m dope, we be the most
dope, see, those my motherf~ckin’ brothers, fool (uh~huh)
trust me, baby, you gon’ f~ck him too, it’s nothin’ new
[chorus]
a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low
got a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low (uh)
a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low, lights low
got a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low, woah (uh)
[verse 2]
and i won’t stop ’til that boat rockin’, most dope god, this globe unlocked
my life is real, you know you not, you look a little bit photoshopped
i started out in this underground, recordin’ sh~t in my bas~m~nt (bas~m~nt)
so don’t f~ck around, have me runnin’ miles like forrest gump, yeah, that’s basic (woo)
so young, i make dope drums, these hoes come, but i tell ’em no
bustin’ on ’em like kesha though, sorry, baby girl, h~ll is cold (cold)
investigated by federal agents ’cause i’m out murderin’ (let’s go)
i’m smokin’ weed, sippin’ syrup to figure out what my purpose is
i got a mansion, i paid for it (uh~huh), at home ’cause i hate tour (uh~huh)
ain’t a need that i say more, you won’t understand what i came for (no)
to inspire those choirs with the highest notes (ah)
hoes from a island home, p~ssy sound like xylophones (let’s go)
and i would like to know how you blow that tyson dough
i’m rollin’ like a bicycle, speak into the microphone (check, check, one, two)
yeah, i’m right at home, chillin’ (chillin’)
so, let me ask you this, would you k!ll for that million? (pow)
[chorus]
a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low
got a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low
a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low, lights low
got a hundred bad b~tches in the room with the lights low, woah
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