Paroles de la chanson Goosebumps par Mac Miller

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Paroles de la chanson Goosebumps par Mac Miller

Better act right, ’cause I’ll smack dykes
Give ‘em blow and a bit of that bagpipe
Bitch wanna live that rap life
But I already hit that last night
Think you fuckin’ with me, huh?
Must be hittin’ that crack pipe
I’ve been makin’ my money
Thank God I learned to add right
My cash like that cocaine
Give me more, said give me more
Don’t worry ’bout it, ain’t no thing
Big titty hoes in my videos
Plastic bitch, don’t kiss and tell
Smack her ass and then wish her well
Life sucks, but I give ‘em Hell
Get money, fuck girls, three big…

I’ve got a million in my briefcase
‘Bout to shop for some real estate
‘Bout to party with drugs, though
Turn it up, bitch, feel the bass
Blowin’ money, in your face
Feelin’ good, livin’ great
Bad bitches in different states
It’s like I think I’m fit to chase
With porn stars, sports cars
And my crib got a courtyard
How’d we get all this money, though?
You know how big his tours are
Greedy bitch, you a needy bitch
Want some money but need some dick
And I’m ’bout that monogram
When I die, bitch should fuck my hologram, though
When I die, bitch should fuck my hologram, though
When I die, bitch should fuck my hologram, though

My hologram…

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
Weed nonstop, my dick out
Her jaw drop, ’cause all we do is…
Fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck…
All she wanna do is…
Fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck…
All she wanna do is…
Fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck…
All she wanna do is…
Fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck…
Fuck…

Don’t I look like a drug dealer?
Don’t I look like I’m somebody?
Killin’ beats with that Murder Inc.
Don’t I look like I’m Irv Gotti?
Ride through in my hippy van
You broke bitches don’t give a damn
You softer than the Michelin man
Your bitch put pussy on Instagram
But it go hard when my flow start
They brand new, but they old cars
Your pockets is on low carbs
She’ll do a show, she a pole star
In the penthouse with her pants down
Get the camera out, no hands now
Them hard drugs, we done ran out
Can’t believe that’s somebody’s grandchild
She’s so bad, but I like it

Wanna hear your pussy, I’ll mic it
My credit card bill is righteous, but
Girl, that ass is so priceless
Spent the night with the right chick
My dick’s ill, my pipe’s sick
Small pussy, tight fit
She loves to sniff that white shit
Fuck free, no charge
I play the pussy like Mozart
Eat the pussy, I won’t starve
Love the pussy with my whole heart
Bitch named Layla like Clapton, hoe
Give me head in the Benz and Captain Mo’
And I’m ’bout that monogram
When I die, bitch should fuck my hologram, though
When I die, bitch should fuck my hologram, though
When I die, bitch should fuck my hologram…

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
Weed nonstop, my dick out
Her jaw drop, ’cause all we do is…
Fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck…
All she wanna do is…
Fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck…
All she wanna do is…
Fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck…
All she wanna do is…
Fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck…
Fuck…

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