lirik lagu mac miller - ok
[hook: tyler, the creator] (2x)
get ‘em mac, mac, mac, mac
mac, mac, mac, mac
get ‘em
girl, shake that body
[verse 1: mac miller]
whoa, what do we have here?
people want to know how we could be that weird
how many hoes want to clean mac’s beard?
i kill flows, think i need that tear on a tattoo
my b-tch suck, she a vacuum
f-ck her in the -ss every time i’m in a bad mood
ain’t got a choice, know she do it cause she have to
i hit it raw while i’m listening to papoose
no respect cause you wear a v-neck
i mean stress, pressure that could even make keith sweat
i wish narnia was on a gps
i wish rihanna was dtf
i got rich with these rap songs
bought a drug problem, now the cash gone
alb-m filled with all sad songs
but this the one that i can laugh on
[hook: tyler, the creator] (2x)
[verse 2: tyler, the creator]
girl, shake that body, them -ss and totties
i want to see them cankles at my hotel lobby
b-tch, why you so d-mn sn-bby?
your -ss flatter than the back of my head
i bought you dinner now it’s time to pay me back in some head
or i’m a have my little sister beat the back of your head
i’m a grade-a douchebag, i’m a d-ckhead
-sshole area where my gooch sag
little momma got salty at me, she started talking tough
so i called the wolf gang up, they start to bark it up
popped a hundred mollies, fixed sherm, think i was sparking up
a bottle of zima, the beamer, i started parking up
seen my n-gg-, mac, and he hopped in the back
and then we jet to fatburger, ordered some big macs
and b-tch came with a gauge, and she wanted my fade
but i’m a b-tch–ss n-gg- so i say
[hook: tyler, the creator] (2x)
[verse 3: tyler, the creator]
t-dollaz and mac meezy, making sure you n-gg-s don’t win like referees
looking for the b-tches that love to suck peewee
herman, i’m a vermin
and you could tell i golf with my hat, man, f-ck thurnis
[mac miller]
i’m at ihop’s and eating with tyler
drink cocoa then double-team mariah
but please, don’t tell nick
we were all watching movies at a motel 6
like ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
i hope kendrick f-ck gaga
if madonna on the kabbalah
then me and snoop could chill and be rastas
i don’t need prada to show you i’m rich
pulling out the llama like “show me your t-ts.”
keep crying cause i still ain’t over my b-tch
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