[Hook: Tyler, the Creator] (2X)
Get ‘em Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Get ‘em
Girl, shake that body

[Verse 1: Mac Miller]
Whoa, what do we have here?
People want to know how we could be that weird
How many hoes want to clean Mac’s beard?
I kill flows, think I need that tear on a tattoo
My bitch suck, she a vacuum
Fuck her in the ass every time I’m in a bad mood
Ain’t got a choice, know she do it cause she have to
I hit it raw while I’m listening to Papoose
No respect cause you wear a V-neck
I mean stress, pressure that could even make Keith sweat
I wish Narnia was on a gps
I wish Rihanna was dtf
I got rich with these rap songs
Bought a drug problem, now the cash gone
Album filled with all sad songs
But this the one that I can laugh on

[Hook: Tyler, the Creator] (2X)

[Verse 2: Tyler, the Creator]
Girl, shake that body, them ass and totties
I want to see them cankles at my hotel lobby
Bitch, why you so damn snobby?
Your ass flatter than the back of my head
I bought you dinner now it’s time to pay me back in some head
Or I’m a have my little sister beat the back of your head
I’m a grade-A douchebag, I’m a dickhead
Asshole area where my gooch sag
Little momma got salty at me, she started talking tough
So I called the Wolf Gang up, they start to bark it up
Popped a hundred mollies, fixed sherm, think I was sparking up
A bottle of Zima, the beamer, I started parking up
Seen my nigga, Mac, and he hopped in the back
And then we jet to Fatburger, ordered some Big Macs
And bitch came with a gauge, and she wanted my fade
But I’m a bitch-ass nigga so I say

[Hook: Tyler, the Creator] (2X)

[Verse 3: Tyler, the Creator]
T-Dollaz and Mac Meezy, making sure you niggas don’t win like referees
Looking for the bitches that love to suck peewee
Herman, I’m a vermin
And you could tell I golf with my hat, man, fuck Thurnis

[Mac Miller]
I’m at ihop’s and eating with Tyler
Drink cocoa then double-team Mariah
But please, don’t tell Nick
We were all watching movies at a Motel 6
Like ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
I hope Kendrick fuck Gaga
If Madonna on the Kabbalah
Then me and Snoop could chill and be Rastas
I don’t need Prada to show you I’m rich
Pulling out the llama like “Show me your tits.”
Keep crying cause I still ain’t over my bitch