Song Page - Lyrify.me

Lyrify.me

La Familia by Mac Miller Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2011

[Intro: Ghosty]
East End in this bitch, yo
It's Ghost, Villain, Mac, Vinny, yeah
Uh, uh

[Verse 1: Mac Miller]
Feelin' like a scholar, gotta keep my grades up (Uh-huh)
Hear the same stuff every day from these lame fucks (Yep)
This whole game rough, kick you while you down
And none of these motherfuckers gon' miss you when you out
I used to sit around the house, waitin' for some dollars
Now I'm out grindin', chasin' after dollars (Uh-huh)
I ain't a star just wastin' all my dollars (Haha)
We here for life, y'all fade away tomorrow
Pause, roll the dice like a board game (Board game)
I'm sleepin' with your girl and I don't even know the whore's name
So magnificent, quick to spit to kill this shit
These bitches is illiterate and this is some deliverance
No Bubba Sparks, talkin' Karl Malone
Snakebite, I hinge my jaw and swallow you whole
On my own path, throwback, dope rap (What?)
The room stops when me, Vinny, Vil or Ghost rap (Uh-huh)
Y'all fragile, broke glass, comin' with no swag
I be countin' numbers, no math, failin' class
But I'm scholarly, rap properly
Knowledge speaks with the verbal trigonometry
Uh, real slick like I'm climbin' out the foxes hole
Keep your grades up, bitch, no honor roll (What?)
[Verse 2: [?]]
[?] for profit
Skeletons be tryin' on the clothes in my closet (Yeah)
Infrequently home, [?] the coffin
In a world full of deadbeats wonderin' where the stars shit (Uh-huh)
Just pumpin' 808s, mob shit
We keep it heartless regardless of circumstance
[?] burnin' plants to stimulate my daydreams
Learn advance techniques of the speech
The way I say things, amazin'
Raisin' hell [?]
Infiltrate arenas with the [?]
Battle scars [?]
With O.J. gloves and [?] punches
I walk through the realness like niggas on crunches
Yo, fuck this, my hips are strong enough to let me hop on, I run shit
Flick of the switch, permis' to drop bombs, I'm dumb sick
[?] for fun and the shot'll make your chest burn
With sippin' that red rum, yep
So go to [?] on a hangover holiday (Uh-huh)
I'm dead serious, it's takin' up my closet space to hide the bones
But as time goes, they rot away
A consequence of price, you gotta pay
Even cheapskates pay the sweepstakes
I'm on the other side of the state with cheese stake and three plates of cheese cake
I'm eatin' great (Uh-huh), side-steppin' the insanity
Just make reality from fantasies with my family
[Verse 3: [?]]
Wordsmith, noble scribe or ghostwriter verbalist (Uh-huh)
Two .45s, Q45 swervin' it
Emerge from shit, yeah, the stench from them urban bricks
Projects, 220, I blew money for shirts and kicks
I do what I feel, I move by the real
Rude, get your food chewed, leavin' dudes out of meals (Uh-huh)
[?] Countin' reasons why I'd do it again
Like the Earth with the fire, thin as blue with the wind
Blowin' with the wind, ink artillery, I'm prone 'til the end
I get checks like a phone and a pen
More real than a estate when you owe me a [?]
And I'm like Jesse Owens, catch me flowin' [?]
On a track, venom attack for playin' with this government
College Michael Vick, QB option, we be runnin' shit
Or Terrelle Pryor, keep that fire by the underpits (Underpits)
'Cause it feels like the gun consists of a ton of bricks
Punchin' shit, punishment, no pun intended
Ever since [?] jump, my funds ascended
The judge my nigga, I ain't wit it', gettin' reprimanded
Ended up wipin' out my sentence like I'm left-handed
On bandwagon is the best transit
[?] (What up?)
Granted, I be thinkin' it's all fakery
[?] My vision concrete as masonry
[Verse 4: [?]]
Uh, look, ya
I'ma go for mine, you can never over-grind
[?] spark the light, frozen wine make the narcs get [?]
They wanna follow the cashflow
I tell 'em even though it comin' quick, my dough comin' legit
Cook 'em right in front of you
[?] We don't even show guns, we just spit
Seventy rounds unloaded from the [?]
Who made the decision to go and fuck with him? (Hmm)
I don't know what thoughts crossed they head
Uh, but niggas must be off they meds
Real rap, so that noise [?]
Before me and men rush in, too late for the discussions
Check it, Vinny be bangin' bitches like percussions
Felt by most, but no, ain't a nigga that can touch 'em
And I fought frequently, lookin' for my next wifey
And US Weekly, why would they unleash me?
I don't know, but yo, tell help to come quickly
'Bout to leave my mark on the game like a buck fifty
Let me say this: only players that can fuck with me
Play for the same team, which is my city, Pittsburgh