Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Red Dot Music, artist - Mac Miller. Date of issue: 22.06.2023
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Red Dot Music |
| Think I can see a fucking halo |
| About to meet my maker |
| Brought a double cup of Drano |
| Some soda for the flavor, uncontrollable behavior |
| With some psychopathic tendencies |
| Lonely as your neighbor with the bitches, he got special needs |
| Word to my denim fiends, I’m Kennedy on ecstasy |
| My flavor from the nature, need an acre for my recipe |
| They got my soul, bu I don’t let them take the rest of me |
| My melody, a little like Kenny G’s, it’s heavenly |
| And my denim tailored, me and Action rapping |
| I’ll be fucking with the Fader, sipping mind eraser |
| Actually, we rapping for the fuck of it |
| Taking money from you, gonna smack you out in public |
| We the republican government, abundance of substance |
| Having consumption to fuck a bitch |
| You’re Banana Republic fit, go suck a dick |
| And your bitch looking like Cousin Itt, the ugliest |
| I said it must be the drugs that got us thinking crazy shit |
| Groupie bitches wildin' up to suck a baby’s dick |
| Cadillacs is gettin' whipped a hundred eighty fifth |
| Just for that sizzle, gortex in case of drizzle |
| I said it must be the drugs that got us thinking crazy shit |
| Looking up into the clouds where the angels sit |
| They looking down, keeping watch 'til I’m dead |
| So how’d I get this red dot on my head? |
| Yo, I don’t perform unless the money’s in my pocket first |
| After rapping take my people out for octopus |
| We all deserve a dedication to the fandom |
| Hold your hand out for nothing if you claim to be my man, damn |
| You see me peeling off a whip like when your mother strip |
| Blow the dice, roll them shits, hit another trip |
| Shit, I’m on some shit |
| Hand’s fucking hotter than a leather in the six in the summertime |
| Understand I’m only rhyming for this son of mine |
| And so my daughter can be a lawyer and reap the spoils |
| We ate the tuna, it’s suede puma, my look is Jay Buhner |
| Dawg it’s cause some of us just age sooner |
| I’m still twisted, rocking lizards from a strange river |
| Forbidden jungle in the joint paper, point shaver |
| Check the bio, I fixed the game between Kentucky and Miami of Ohio |
| I been wild |
| I said it must be the drugs that got us thinking crazy shit |
| Groupie bitches wildin' up to suck a baby’s dick |
| Cadillacs is gettin' whipped a hundred eighty fifth |
| Just for that sizzle, gortex in case of drizzle |
| I said it must be the drugs that got us thinking crazy shit |
| Looking up into the clouds where the angels sit |
| They looking down, keeping watch 'til I’m dead |
| So how’d I get this red dot on my head? |
| Bitch I’m nodding enough, I’m hot as wassabi sauce |
| And constantly giving y’all a bit of this ambiance |
| I was a minor, chasing after vagina |
| None of my friends were fake, but none of my clothes designer |
| Went from posted on stoops to smoking on roofs |
| I came from that basement, now look at this view |
| Making this money, blowing it all |
| Fuck what you did, just show me results |
| Yo I’m a 635, dip or fly motherfucker |
| Leather to the foot, horses I led them to the brook |
| If you like to keep the chisel in the book |
| I see a lion in the mirror when I look |
| Look, I lose money but I make it back |
| I keep it true and ain’t no motherfucking faking that |
| I get a-fadin' and then I fade to black |
| Been on the razorbacks, I hold the multi-colored flavored gat |
| Blat |
| I said it must be the drugs… |
| You was Easy Mac with the cheesy raps |
| Who the fuck is Mac Miller? |
| This name says «crack dealing trap nigga |
| Slash cat peeler, back with a black stripper |
| Ass thicker than a snack wrap snicker, too fat to snap zippers» |
| And half is what I’ll do to Mac Miller |
| Now my mind’s first track figured |
| A nigga who treats his yak richer than elixer |
| Taps slicker than past tiller |
| Goes around the room like his cats get finna |
| Oh you Mac Miller? |
| The fact’s filtered in the snapped picture |
| My man jack ripped over Google like Jack the Ripper |
| Yoohoo, I’m finna murder this brunette bitch |
| Get pumped like a flat fixed to become a flat fixture |
| A rap figure to look like you hacked Twitter |
| I’ll show you Beastie Boy |
| You can’t match a killer with that wigger |
| I’d rather attack Tigger or Jack Triller |
| He got track fillers for a album |
| If he had Jigga on an ass sticker |
| Wouldn’t go cat litter where I’m from |
| Malcolm, I knock the thoughts off your balcony, King, |
| You’re from a home of funny bones |
| Not like quite the one I’ve known |
| You look like, before you punched in flows |
| You were struckin' blows, bloody nose for your honey row |
| In the lunchroom gettin' yo money stole |
| You’re a bully’s Best Day Ever |
| With them Nike’s on your feet |
| Coming through Blue Slide Park |
| I’m gon' rob this chump |
| On a party on Fifth Ave like he Donald Trump |
| Nigga don’t give me that shit |
| I liked you better when you was Easy Mac with the cheesy raps |
| Who the fuck is Mac Miller? |