Mac Miller - Suplexes Inside of Complexes and Duplexes lyricsrate me
(feat. Jay Electronica)
This is madness!
This is an outrage
As a matter of fact, this is outrageous!
Yeah, young sire, slap the fuck out …
Rough rider, raw bust inside a vagina
Like I want kids, my head continues to be haunted
I burn a city down while I'm unconscious, baby go on!
Take some …, conversate with Jesus
Batting practice with the motherfucking ghost of Babe Ruth
Do as a saint do, turn painful to graceful
Devil on my trails, I'm trying to find the Holy Grail
Bitch! Right there!
And if Mars is the farthest that man has set his target
Then I don't know why I even started.
I'm sick of being too nice to people who don't do .. fucking… right
Told myself, "Fuck the world kid, just do what you like"
Go and have a food fight, start yourself a new life!
You're too bright to be inside a bunch of mediocrity
But all those big words ain't gonna get you paid
And those abstract ideas for sure won't get you laid.
You got a maid in that mad house
What the fuck you got to be sad about?
Go ahead a rap now, do what you do best,
I mean, that's what you do best!
Matter of fact motherfucker you suit vest,
You need to buy a new dress
I heard you and your girl live in a duplex
I'm a put her ass in a Suplex,
The sun east, the moon west
You got a clue, what does a clue get?
My milk and honey, my cherie cherie amour
My Cinderella in her carriage by the doorway
Her ruby slipper made the wizard send the scarecrow
And the lion through the forest
To the wicked witch's fortress where she scorched them in the foreplay
He said he'd fight the box to see the wizard
When he was visited by Dorothy who came here on a blizzard
Now the whole world's in color, still,
How auntie… was next of kin and not her mother
Real, her face was care worn
I suspected she migrated to Kansas up from Dearborn
And had beef with Mrs. … from the very beginning of year one
Mr. Candyman, the parables parabolic
The poetry's like the poems and songs of Ecclesiastes
Lightning should strike the stone and then Moses should make a tablet
The Judge will bang the wood up in parliament with the mallet
And yell "hear, hear," finally some order to this rap shit
Finally some sort of water to soil these cracked lips
I keep my shit crispy and elegant,
So miss me with the irrelevant, the god body is heaven-sent
The hard-body is reverence, since the son of …
Brother of … every rhyme’s allowed
Every line is kosher, living la vida loca