Lyrics Lights Low By Mac Miller OnLine | Musica Rap

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ESCUCHAR Lights Low - Mac Miller

Datos de Mac Miller Nombre Verdadero: Malcolm James McCormickNombre Artístico: Mac MillerDonde Nació: Pittsburgh, Pensilvania, Estados UnidosFecha de Nacimiento: 19 de enero de 1992Muerte: 07 de septiembre de 2018 (26 años)Donde murió: California, Estados UnidosNacionalidad: EstadounidenseGénero(s): Hip hop, rapActividad: 2007 - 2018Instrumentos: VozOcupación: MC, raperoDisquera(s): Warner Bros RecordsOtros Nombres: Easy Mac, EZ Mac, Cam Rellim, Larry Fisherman, Larry Lovestein, The Velvet RevivalPágina Oficial: www.macmillerswebsite.comRedes Sociales:Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, YouTube .'
'. ¿Quién fue Mac Miller? Malcolm James McCormick, más conocido por su nombre artístico Mac Miller, fue un rapero estadounidense que nació en Pittsburgh, Pensilvania, Estados Unidos, el 19 de enero de 1992 y falleció el 7 de septiembre de 2018. También fue un músico autodidacta, tocaba el piano, el bajo, la guitarra y la batería. Ha destacado como productor bajo el seudónimo Larry Fisherman. Niñez, Juventud y Vida Familiar Hijo de Karen Meyers, una
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  • Lights Low - Mac Miller 2:58

Mac Miller - Lights Low Lyrics


[Intro]
A hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low (A hundred bad bitches in the room)
Got a hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low, ho (A hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low)
A hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low, lights low (A hundred bad bitches)
Got a hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low, ho
Oh, la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Tip of the tongue [?], yah

[Verse 1]
When I rap on the beat, sit back in your seat (Woah)
Chill out with a sack of the weed, stompin' your hands, clappin' your feet (L-l-low)
Do it all backwards with me
Started out in this underground, recordin' shit in my basement (Uh-huh)
Now it's just around a hundred thou' to see me rockin' them stages (Let's go)
B-back pain, I got mass trains in the cash game on this fast train
My rap name is kinda plain, got bad aim, but I'm tryna change
Get brain, call my name bitch, head bang like Iron Maiden (Rock)
Need a blessing not sign with Satan, show love, don't lie with hatred
You rockin' with a motherfuckin' genius way before his prime (Prime)
That pussy razor burn borderline porcupine
Just pourin' time with a mortifyin' foreign dime
She just got off work, doin' a 4-to-9 (Woah)
Corporate slime want a fourth of mine, you lost your mind (Fucked up)
A lot of wine in a concubine (True, true)
Uh, ain't no motherfucker that can beat me (No)
Flow on the go like the wee-wee (Smoke)
Ain't a bitch got it easy (Throat)
Don't buy me [?]
You got bread, she need a loaf
She a journalist, she need a quote
Smell weed, the coat, evil hoes
See, I'm dope, we be the most
Dope, see, those my motherfuckin' brothers, fool (Uh-huh)
Trust me, baby, you gon' fuck him too, it's nothin' new
[Chorus]
A hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low
Got a hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low (Uh)
A hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low, lights low
Got a hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low, woah (Uh)

[Verse 2]
And I won't stop 'til that boat rockin', Most Dope god, this globe unlocked
My life is real, you know you not, you look a little bit Photoshopped
I started out in this underground, recordin' shit in my basement (Basement)
So don't fuck around, have me runnin' miles like Forrest Gump, yeah, that's basic (Woo)
So young, I make dope drums, these hoes come, but I tell 'em no
Bustin' on 'em like Kesha though, sorry, baby girl, Hell is cold (Cold)
Investigated by federal agents 'cause I'm out murderin' (Let's go)
I'm smokin' weed, sippin' syrup to figure out what my purpose is
I got a mansion, I paid for it (Uh-huh), at home 'cause I hate tour (Uh-huh)
Ain't a need that I say more, you won't understand what I came for (No)
To inspire those choirs with the highest notes (Ah)
Hoes from a island home, pussy sound like xylophones (Let's go)
And I would like to know how you blow that Tyson dough
I'm rollin' like a bicycle, speak into the microphone (Check, check, one, two)
Yeah, I'm right at home, chillin' (Chillin')
So, let me ask you this, would you kill for that million? (Pow)

[Chorus]
A hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low
Got a hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low
A hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low, lights low
Got a hundred bad bitches in the room with the lights low, woah

Lights Low » Mac Miller Letras !!!

Lyrics de: Mac Miller