Mac Miller - Blue Slide Park Lyrics
Blue Slide Park, it’s Blue slide park man
Hey, I got these Ray-Ban shades, kinda look like something Lennon would rock
It seems like now I got a couple bags whenever I shop
Louie shoes, Polo socks, some name brand dumb shit
Logo never make a man, but I’m still blowing thousands on it
No clue what I’m calling my album
Fans be at my van screaming, calling me Malcom
Never knew the outcome be this much cash now
Bank account looking like a George Young stash house
Young and acting out, the topics that I rap about
Be varying from politics to bitches pulling asses out
That’s exactly how I do this as a rapper
I’m nuttin’ in her mouth, you tongue kissing her after
Daughters’ moms kinda want me neutered
But they also want the kid to cum right on their cooter
Have the music sounding better then guitar tuners
Plus I’m doing shows daily call me John Stewart
So who you know that’s iller than Mac Miller and company
It’s like I planted money seeds right underneath the f-cking tree
Now I got a hundred g’s so none of ya’ll can f-ck with me
Yeah I said it publicly so run and tell your mother, motherfucker
I said run and tell your mother, motherf-cker
[Verse 2]
Hold up Jerm let me spit the second
Hey yo I breeze past haters In the E-class quickly
And deep did a hundred songs in six weeks
Shit keeps going on and on
We just tryna go bananas like it’s Donkey Kong
Yeah on my grind, always need to work
So I be eatin’ good, you be eatin’ dirt
If you talking shit, you gonna see me smirk
While the DJ be scratching til the needles burst
A couple screws probably loose in my head
Holla at my girl, tell her bring that doobie to bed
I’m a regular guy with an irregular life
Except I’m a Lamborghini if it’s racing a bike
Who knew that I can turn some sound into something so cool
Fresh kicks, see me I’m busting the moves
Coming in soon to a theater near you
Creep in your kitchen start eating your food
Girls tryna f-ck I don’t be in the mood
No time for p-ssy when money’s in the room, Oh
I switch flows, switch rhythm
Sick spittin’, unlimited ammunition
