Video Diablo » Mac Miller Lyrics | Musica Rap

Mac Miller - Diablo Lyrics

Paroles de la chanson Diablo par Mac Miller
It’s the, rap diablo, Macho when I drop flows
Bar gets raised up, it’s me and Petey Pablo
Colder than [?], colder than the mano
Rapping head honcho rocking shows like I was Bono
I go, play a couple keys on the piano
The industry a lie all the promises were hollow
Follow, me I could show you where we be’s at
How’s I get my g pass, none of your fvcking beeswax
Thes raps, bring these joints together like a kneecap
Fvck the little 8 balls show me where the keys at
The time continuum, Mortal Kombat finish them
Tryna find a balace reaching from my equilibrium
Fools I pity them, I’m not a human I’m amphibian
Fake superhero like the Mystery Men
I ain’t saving nothin’
I’m gettin’ faded to the angels come and skipping the famous functions
The A list can’t be trusted
I strong arm them like I play the trumpet
The bottom barrel of society
I tell my bitch if she don’t love me then just lie to me
I’m finer than the winery
Take it from the rich this is piracy
Finally, I don’t even need my fvcking eyes to see
Come and die with me
Cus everybody got dead homies
Said everybody got dead homies
Said everybody got dead homies
Said everybody got dead homies
My mind is Yoda I’m on Ayatollah
These other rapper just a diet soda
I find Jehova in the darkest places
Empty as appartment basements
This a marathon gentlemen go ahead and start the races
Save the coffin spaces
Don’t come up missing
Tell your bitch you’ve been trippin’ now you on vacation
Rapping like it’s automated
Lights I keep em’ on like Vegas
Love I’m making so hot I’m turning hard to bacon
Only god can save him, I heard the monsters made him
I ain’t a star I’m way farther with the constelations
Contemplating suicide like it’s a DVD
Lost inside my mind it’s a prison homie leave me be
You can see me bleed, I be with the freaks and geeks
Bitch I never miss a beat I’m Charlie [?]
[?] in these streets
Ballin’ like I’m Pistol Pete
Been a beast, every word I spit rewriting history
Look at what you did to me, look at what you did to me
Running to the underworld with guns and set the centers free
No bitches in my circle I’m a show you the commercial
I’ve been popping like a colonel
Reading Justin Beiber’s journal
Treat you like a urinal