Song Page - Lyrify.me

Lyrify.me

Pranks 4 Players by Mac Miller Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2011

[Intro: Casey Veggies]
(We on tour right now) It's Young Veggies right here
You know what I'm sayin'? We in the studio (Yeah), Chi Town
I got my niggas with me (Ah yeah)
I got my people with me (Ah yeah)
Mac Meezy (My boy), Mikey watchin' this shit too ([?])
You know I'm sayin'? (Swag, yeah, swag, swag, yeah, swag, swag, yeah, swag)
Your swag's shit (Yeah)

[Verse 1: Mac Miller]
It go rock-a-bye baby
What if I'm fuckin' with my butterfly lady
In the backseat of the 'Cedes, or the Saleen
Somethin' that I cop, made in the eighties
I've been lost inside this puzzle
Rearrangin', keep on sayin' I'm a goddamn fool
Tell me, "Quit playin'," I'm like, "No can do"
Been through this bullshit
Actin' foolish as a dude that's hit with Cupid's doings
Music is the key to everything I keep pursuin'
Bitches used to do the friend thing, now they ask me what I'm doin'
Tryna give me head before the show
Go while I'm interviewin' with a student newspaper
Maybe with the radio
Curb Your Enthusiasm, ho, the Larry David Show
Was somethin' that we probably watchin' while we be gettin' high
Step aside if anybody think they lookin' fresh as I am
With my Daily Bread hoodie and a floral hat
This shit these rappers talkin 'bout
I'm gettin' bored of that
[Chorus: Mac Miller & Sir Michael Rocks]
This, or that, and a wiffle ball bat
Make a million dollars, then I give it all back
These rappers talkin' shit when they shit is all wack (Ayy)
Yeah, I said it on wax
Yeah, I'm pullin' stars from the sky
Live large, get high
Women lie, men lie, but we always fly
At the end of the movie, dubs always cry (Michael)
Pullin' stars from the sky (Michael)
Live large, get high

[Verse 2: Sir Michael Rocks]
It's all live, baby (Baby)
Golded up like Tut, It make guys hate me (Uh)
But I ain't givin' a fuck, I tell 'em, "Drive safely"
How dare a man lift his hand at me like I'm gon' flinch?
I'm not no bitch (Uh-uh)
With the concreature concrete monuments (Monuments)
[?] prolly pack his bag if he tryna trip
Nick Bruno, Boldy James kinda shit
It's like The Godfather, y'all gotta honor this (Honor this)
Tryna split the money up like communists (Okay)
You should shake the person hand that put you on to this
Hold up, that's the swag you would kill for (Kill for)
What the fuck you tryna chill for? (Wake up)
Are you alive or a stillborn?
'Cause you really ain't livin' 'til you get yours
Sky's the limit, we could build doors
Open 'em up, nothin' gon' be closed, I'm sure
[Chorus: Sir Michael Rocks & Mac Miller]
This, or that, and a wiffle ball bat
Make a million dollars, and then give it all back
These rappers talkin' shit when they shit be all wack
Yeah, I said it on wax
We pullin' stars out the sky
Live large, get high
Men lie, women lie, but we always fly
At the end of the movie, dubs always cry
Pullin' stars out the sky
Live large, get high, ha