Mac Miller — Desperado

[Intro] Uh Chyeah Uh Uh Dedicated to This dedicated to Fuck it [Verse 1] Uh, I got a pocket full of posies Some devil with a pitchfork keep talkin' like he know me I'm psychopathic, low-key, my hyperactive dome piece Get no sleep, ill as fuck, the hospitals seem so weak I stood before an Angel as he told me 'bout the glory Put me in a room of people, how the fuck could I be lonely? I only get money, these labels tryna clone me Uh, my thoughts get heavy, hit the ground and crack the concrete So, I try to keep 'em in my head It's sad to see when everything that you believe is dead Word to Heavy D, and rest in peace to all that come and pass Life is good sometimes, but it just doesn't last A bunch of stress, you see this mic is like my punchin' bag Rock 'n' roll, drugs and cash, you softer than a bubble bath Sucka ass ma'fucka, ma'fucka's sediment Doper than the shit that killed Chris Tucker in Dead Presidents Desert rhymes, homie, ridin' beats, I'm on a camel I'm way too hot to handle, life a beach, I brought my sandals, heh You want a war? I got a lot of ammo You ain't a soldier 'cause you rockin' camo Young Rambo, hundred million fans though And I do it big, you a iPod Nano Fire on wax, look like I brought candles Yeah, you got a show, but you ain't on my channel [Interlude] That's HBO, bitch, you gotta pay for that Aha-ha-ha Your channel's free Aha-ha-ha (I'm gonna fucking kill you) Uh IMAX some shit motherfucker, yeah, suck my dick [Verse 2] Hey Ayo, I'm 'bout to start gambilin' with Ambien, I'm dutch smokin' That's a strike but fuck bowlin', I could tear a pin of Maryland See, I'm American, apparently it's damagin' To be in front of cameras in your underwear with Marilyn Monroe-lookin' dumb hoes who want too much dough And come close to have you straight trippin' when you jump rope Don't rock the love boat, this business fuckin' cutthroat And it's gonna crack if you just paint the wall with one coat Rooms filled with blunt smoke, peep me through the fog These rappers who be hatin' probably need to get a job See, me, I'm with my squad, gettin' money, livin' comfortable I know a couple hoes who model, but they ugly though Fuck a toast, y'all is fuckin' broke, cut ya throat Judgin' me is nothin' dope, boy, you lyin' under oath God made the world, why did man make the scriptures? And if he created Lennon, why'd he go and make a Hitler? I could take a photo, but I'd rather paint a picture Of the one Laurence Fishburne, we'll shoot up all you hipsters I'm from Pittsburgh, that's black and gold If my skin gets filled up, I'ma tat my soul Runnin' out of paper, writin' on my hand Hundred thousand haters writin' 'bout my jams Want a number one independent album? I'm your man I'ma hit Preme and leave you all right where you stand [Outro]