Mac Miller – Goosebumpz Lyrics

This is the first of three bonus tracks included in the deluxe edition of Mac Miller’s second album, Watching Movies with the Sound Off.

Goosebumpz Lyrics by Mac Miller

[Intro]
(Diplo)
Let’s go

[Verse 1]
Better act right ’cause I smack dykes
Give ’em blow and a bit of that bagpipe (Pipe)
Bitch wanna live that rap life (Life), but I already hit that last night
Think you’re fuckin’ with me, huh? (Huh?) Must be hittin’ that crack pipe
I been makin’ my money (Money), thank God I learned how to add right (Let’s go)
My cash like that cocaine, give me more, say, give me more
Don’t worry ’bout it, ain’t no thing, big titty hoes in my videos
Classy bitch, don’t kiss and tell (Nope)
Smack her ass and then wish her well (Well)
Life sucks, better give ’em hell
Get money, fuck girls, free Biggavel
A million in my briefcase (Briefcase), ’bout to shop for some real estate
‘Bout to party with drugs though, turn it up, bitch, feel the bass (Bass)
Throwin’ money in your face (Face), feelin’ good, livin’ great (Great)
Bad bitches in different states, it’s like I think I’m Vincent Chase
With porn stars, sports cars, and my crib got a courtyard
How we get all this money though? You know how big his tours are? (Woah)
Greedy bitch, you a needy bitch
Want some money, but need some dick (Ha)

[Pre-Chorus]
And my belt monogram
When I die, bet she fuck my hologram though
When I die, bet she fuck my hologram though
When I die, bet she fuck my hologram
When I die, bet she fuck my hologram, my hologram

[Chorus]
We in my black Benz, windows up
Gettin’ head, smokin’ blunts
Everybody know what’s up
And I turn them girls to sluts
Crib’s like a mob boss
My bitch get my car washed
We non-stop, my dick out, her jaw drop
‘Cause all we do is fuck, fu-fu-fuck, fuck
All she wanna do is fuck, fu-fu-fuck, fuck
All she, all she wanna do is fuck, fu-fu-fuck, fuck
All she wanna do is fuck, fu-fu-fuck, fuck, fuck

[Verse 2]
Don’t I look like a drug dealer? (Woah) Don’t I look like I’m somebody? (Woah)
Killin’ beats with that Murder Inc., don’t I look like I’m Irv Gotti? (Woah)
Ridin’ through in my hippy van, you broke bitches don’t give a damn
You softer than the Michelin man, your bitch put her pussy on Instagram
Better go hard when my flow start (Start)
They brand new, but they old cars (Cars)
Your pockets is on low carbs (Carbs)
She do a show, she a polestar
In the penthouse with her pants down
Get the camera out, no hands now
Them hard drugs, we done ran out (Let’s go)
Can’t believe that’s somebody grandchild (Let’s go)
She’s so bad, but I like it (Like it)
Wanna hear your pussy, I’ll mic it (Mic it)
My credit card bill is righteous
But, girl, that ass is so priceless
Spend the night with the right bitch
My dick ill, my pipe sick (Let’s go)
Small pussy, tight fit
She love to sniff that white shit
Fuck her free, no charge
I play the pussy like Mozart
Eat the pussy, I won’t starve (Nope)
Love the pussy with my whole heart
Bitch named Layla, my Clapton ho
Give me head, put the Benz in captain mode
[Pre-Chorus]
And my belt monogram
When I die, bet she fuck my hologram though
When I die, bet she fuck my hologram though
When I die, bet she fuck my hologram

[Chorus]
We in my black Benz, windows up
Gettin’ head, smokin’ blunts
Everybody know what’s up
And I turn them girls to sluts
Crib’s like a mob boss
My bitch get my car washed
We non-stop, my dick out, her jaw drop
‘Cause all we do is fuck, fu-fu-fuck, fuck
All she wanna do is fuck, fu-fu-fuck, fuck
All she, all she wanna do is fuck, fu-fu-fuck, fuck
All she wanna do is fuck, fu-fu-fuck, fuck, fuck