Cartel Gathering by Mac Miller Lyrics
[Intro: Beedie]
Yo, yo, yo
Uh, uh, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Jimmie Hoffa, what the fuck is good?
Boston, Mass to Pittsburgh, PA
We gon' do it big
Shout to Capcom, 93P
Let's get it, man
Yo, yo
[Verse 1: Beedie]
Ain't nothin' left to this rap of ringtones
You know I'm makin' classics the more they sing songs
Wow, that seems wrong, but I ain't gon' linger on it (I'm here)
[?] with the illest style, I'm bringin' on 'em (It is what it is)
Beedie, Crack, Mac Miller. Jimmie Hoffa
Holla at me, bro, I need a blunt to get me proper
I don't need a partner (Nah), we roll solo
I'm so low to the ground, this beat is so cold
This weed is so cold, it keep me loco
Ayy, low key when I'm blowin' the haze
I blow smoke [?] the state I'm in
I'm for that gold medal spot, boy, I play it to win
I done been through hell and been back (Uh-huh)
So when I been back, you can get your men clapped
Or get your gym snatched (Yeah)
And that's how it's gotta be, 'cause I gotta get a lot of money
[?]
[Verse 2: Jimmie Hoffa]
Just like the [?] wars, I'm a star
I'm sicker than swine flu, [?] and SARS
So I don't need a story, I just point 'em to my scars
They swear life is hard 'til you in that foreign car (Bars)
I keep a foreign broad to [?]
And give me head while I'm workin' on my bars
Like a bag off of [?], I'm way above par
And your [?]
See, that's why I'm [?] like unleaded
Cut straight to the top, I am GPS headed (Woo)
But still in the hood like [?] and bad credit
So you can't pull my card 'cause I don't even own a debit (Haha)
And I'm just stuntin' on you hoes
Brushin' off my shirt and I ain't doin' shows
But I'm very much a pro 'cause I can kill 'em with the flow
And ever since the late '90s I been [?]
[Verse 3: Mac Miller]
Uh, Rocky Stallone boxin' a pro
So if you steppin' up, you'll get knocked in ya dome
You got style I can mop the floor with
'Cause y'all just bug like locust and roaches
Walk into a restaurant, always spittin' game on the hostess
Approach with swagger, take notice, never lose focus
I'm gettin' dough up in my pockets
It's all about the profit when you dealin' with the chronic
Got a backpack [?] scale
My old heads told me, "If you look back, you're frail"
So no lookin', I'm ready to go
Mind on the money, head on my dough
Me, Hoff and Beedie ready to blow
And y'all act like we haven't said it befo'
So from Pittsburgh to Boston
No options, it's hip-hop to the coffin, bitch
Yo, yo, yo
Uh, uh, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Jimmie Hoffa, what the fuck is good?
Boston, Mass to Pittsburgh, PA
We gon' do it big
Shout to Capcom, 93P
Let's get it, man
Yo, yo
[Verse 1: Beedie]
Ain't nothin' left to this rap of ringtones
You know I'm makin' classics the more they sing songs
Wow, that seems wrong, but I ain't gon' linger on it (I'm here)
[?] with the illest style, I'm bringin' on 'em (It is what it is)
Beedie, Crack, Mac Miller. Jimmie Hoffa
Holla at me, bro, I need a blunt to get me proper
I don't need a partner (Nah), we roll solo
I'm so low to the ground, this beat is so cold
This weed is so cold, it keep me loco
Ayy, low key when I'm blowin' the haze
I blow smoke [?] the state I'm in
I'm for that gold medal spot, boy, I play it to win
I done been through hell and been back (Uh-huh)
So when I been back, you can get your men clapped
Or get your gym snatched (Yeah)
And that's how it's gotta be, 'cause I gotta get a lot of money
[?]
[Verse 2: Jimmie Hoffa]
Just like the [?] wars, I'm a star
I'm sicker than swine flu, [?] and SARS
So I don't need a story, I just point 'em to my scars
They swear life is hard 'til you in that foreign car (Bars)
I keep a foreign broad to [?]
And give me head while I'm workin' on my bars
Like a bag off of [?], I'm way above par
And your [?]
See, that's why I'm [?] like unleaded
Cut straight to the top, I am GPS headed (Woo)
But still in the hood like [?] and bad credit
So you can't pull my card 'cause I don't even own a debit (Haha)
And I'm just stuntin' on you hoes
Brushin' off my shirt and I ain't doin' shows
But I'm very much a pro 'cause I can kill 'em with the flow
And ever since the late '90s I been [?]
[Verse 3: Mac Miller]
Uh, Rocky Stallone boxin' a pro
So if you steppin' up, you'll get knocked in ya dome
You got style I can mop the floor with
'Cause y'all just bug like locust and roaches
Walk into a restaurant, always spittin' game on the hostess
Approach with swagger, take notice, never lose focus
I'm gettin' dough up in my pockets
It's all about the profit when you dealin' with the chronic
Got a backpack [?] scale
My old heads told me, "If you look back, you're frail"
So no lookin', I'm ready to go
Mind on the money, head on my dough
Me, Hoff and Beedie ready to blow
And y'all act like we haven't said it befo'
So from Pittsburgh to Boston
No options, it's hip-hop to the coffin, bitch