82 92 (feat. Mac Miller)

Hey, hey. . . What up, Term?
 Uh-huh. . . and it go like
 I'm just gonna let the beat ride out a little bit
 You know what I mean?
 Just so you can feel what I'm feeling
 Alright, now that we on the same page
 Alright, look. . . hey, hey
 We be making that classic shit
 Rapping on some Statik hits
 Immaculate Mac'll spazz and laugh at all these average kids
 Be with the baddest bitch
 Style's so miraculous
 And you heard me spit
 But you don't even know the half of it
 Keep it funky hungry like I need some money
 Cheeky so my speech is funny
 Own it like it's bees and honey
 Tweedle-dee and dummy
 Trying to take some Gs up from me
 Yeah they hate me but they love me
 I be sillier than putty
 Motherfucker, y'all be shapeshifting
 Hate spitting, but with them wack bars
 Take pictures with 8 bitches, boy we some rap stars
 Used to fuck around and just kick it in my backyard
 Now I'm on the road, hitting shows with some bad broads
 Me and Term be on that hip hop shit
 Surprised this young one here know what real hip hop is
 Everybody here be like, 'Oh, this my ish'
 Hey yo Term, go on kick that shit
 Listen my mellow the metal will turn you into jello
 Claimin' that you peddle with mettle but never in the ghetto
 Kill a fellow rapper, immaculate never will I settle
 With a middle class budget cause buddy I get the cheddar
 Scrape up you amateurs, babble on when I batter ya
 Bakin' brownies with hash in 'em, bachelor who be smashin' them
 Gucci wallet attractin' 'em hoochies always be flashin' them
 Loosies yo I be stackin' 'em so really I'm imaginin'
 The wax killer, with Mac Miller my rap's iller
 Just ask spitter, for currency I'm a cash getter
 I do a song with you homie and it's a great look
 My shotty handle is Armani, they all on me
 Call mami and twist her back out like origami
 I pour Johnny Walker in my cup
 Ever since a little pup
 I knew me and Stat was gonna live it up
 (Sicker than your average-- who's really the shit?)
 (1-9-8-2. 1-9-rhymes-too.)
 I'm better than good it sounds so
 ♪
 Now they mad they hating on him
 Girlies be waitin' I'm skating a figure 8 up on 'em
 Bitches be making me lemonade and cupcakes
 Now you on my dick bitch, tell me how my nuts taste.
 And we like 'fuck jake', trying to get this puff cake
 We bad boys for real, homie you trunk space
 I'll put a body in a Maserati from the lottie
 I'm packing y'all in, a Rottie mixed with the Dalai Lami
 You mad I ain't as lame as you
 Eating beats like some Asian food
 Flowing that's uncontainable
 Rooftop, amazing view
 A million rappers in the game but I'mma make it soon
 They spending money for me, now I'mma pay for you
 Squash you like a tomato do
 Burners while high will blaze at you
 My mami take the pillow and bite it when I be lacin' it
 It's undebateable
 Roll around with a hater crew
 Mac was born in '92 but he rhyme like he from '82
 (Sicker than your average-- who's really the shit?)
 (1-9-8-2. 1-9-rhymes-too)
 ♪
 (1982, the album coming soon, bitch!)
 
 Hey, hey. . . What up, Term?
 Uh-huh. . . and it go like
 I'm just gonna let the beat ride out a little bit
 You know what I mean?
 Just so you can feel what I'm feeling
 Alright, now that we on the same page
 Alright, look. . . hey, hey
 We be making that classic shit
 Rapping on some Statik hits
 Immaculate Mac'll spazz and laugh at all these average kids
 Be with the baddest bitch
 Style's so miraculous
 And you heard me spit
 But you don't even know the half of it
 Keep it funky hungry like I need some money
 Cheeky so my speech is funny
 Own it like it's bees and honey
 Tweedle-dee and dummy
 Trying to take some Gs up from me
 Yeah they hate me but they love me
 I be sillier than putty
 Motherfucker, y'all be shapeshifting
 Hate spitting, but with them wack bars
 Take pictures with 8 bitches, boy we some rap stars
 Used to fuck around and just kick it in my backyard
 Now I'm on the road, hitting shows with some bad broads
 Me and Term be on that hip hop shit
 Surprised this young one here know what real hip hop is
 Everybody here be like, 'Oh, this my ish'
 Hey yo Term, go on kick that shit
 Listen my mellow the metal will turn you into jello
 Claimin' that you peddle with mettle but never in the ghetto
 Kill a fellow rapper, immaculate never will I settle
 With a middle class budget cause buddy I get the cheddar
 Scrape up you amateurs, babble on when I batter ya
 Bakin' brownies with hash in 'em, bachelor who be smashin' them
 Gucci wallet attractin' 'em hoochies always be flashin' them
 Loosies yo I be stackin' 'em so really I'm imaginin'
 The wax killer, with Mac Miller my rap's iller
 Just ask spitter, for currency I'm a cash getter
 I do a song with you homie and it's a great look
 My shotty handle is Armani, they all on me
 Call mami and twist her back out like origami
 I pour Johnny Walker in my cup
 Ever since a little pup
 I knew me and Stat was gonna live it up
 (Sicker than your average-- who's really the shit?)
 (1-9-8-2. 1-9-rhymes-too.)
 I'm better than good it sounds so
 ♪
 Now they mad they hating on him
 Girlies be waitin' I'm skating a figure 8 up on 'em
 Bitches be making me lemonade and cupcakes
 Now you on my dick bitch, tell me how my nuts taste.
 And we like 'fuck jake', trying to get this puff cake
 We bad boys for real, homie you trunk space
 I'll put a body in a Maserati from the lottie
 I'm packing y'all in, a Rottie mixed with the Dalai Lami
 You mad I ain't as lame as you
 Eating beats like some Asian food
 Flowing that's uncontainable
 Rooftop, amazing view
 A million rappers in the game but I'mma make it soon
 They spending money for me, now I'mma pay for you
 Squash you like a tomato do
 Burners while high will blaze at you
 My mami take the pillow and bite it when I be lacin' it
 It's undebateable
 Roll around with a hater crew
 Mac was born in '92 but he rhyme like he from '82
 (Sicker than your average-- who's really the shit?)
 (1-9-8-2. 1-9-rhymes-too)
 ♪
 (1982, the album coming soon, bitch!)
 
 Hey, hey. . . What up, Term?
 Uh-huh. . . and it go like
 I'm just gonna let the beat ride out a little bit
 You know what I mean?
 Just so you can feel what I'm feeling
 Alright, now that we on the same page
 Alright, look. . . hey, hey
 We be making that classic shit
 Rapping on some Statik hits
 Immaculate Mac'll spazz and laugh at all these average kids
 Be with the baddest bitch
 Style's so miraculous
 And you heard me spit
 But you don't even know the half of it
 Keep it funky hungry like I need some money
 Cheeky so my speech is funny
 Own it like it's bees and honey
 Tweedle-dee and dummy
 Trying to take some Gs up from me
 Yeah they hate me but they love me
 I be sillier than putty
 Motherfucker, y'all be shapeshifting
 Hate spitting, but with them wack bars
 Take pictures with 8 bitches, boy we some rap stars
 Used to fuck around and just kick it in my backyard
 Now I'm on the road, hitting shows with some bad broads
 Me and Term be on that hip hop shit
 Surprised this young one here know what real hip hop is
 Everybody here be like, 'Oh, this my ish'
 Hey yo Term, go on kick that shit
 Listen my mellow the metal will turn you into jello
 Claimin' that you peddle with mettle but never in the ghetto
 Kill a fellow rapper, immaculate never will I settle
 With a middle class budget cause buddy I get the cheddar
 Scrape up you amateurs, babble on when I batter ya
 Bakin' brownies with hash in 'em, bachelor who be smashin' them
 Gucci wallet attractin' 'em hoochies always be flashin' them
 Loosies yo I be stackin' 'em so really I'm imaginin'
 The wax killer, with Mac Miller my rap's iller
 Just ask spitter, for currency I'm a cash getter
 I do a song with you homie and it's a great look
 My shotty handle is Armani, they all on me
 Call mami and twist her back out like origami
 I pour Johnny Walker in my cup
 Ever since a little pup
 I knew me and Stat was gonna live it up
 (Sicker than your average-- who's really the shit?)
 (1-9-8-2. 1-9-rhymes-too.)
 I'm better than good it sounds so
 ♪
 Now they mad they hating on him
 Girlies be waitin' I'm skating a figure 8 up on 'em
 Bitches be making me lemonade and cupcakes
 Now you on my dick bitch, tell me how my nuts taste.
 And we like 'fuck jake', trying to get this puff cake
 We bad boys for real, homie you trunk space
 I'll put a body in a Maserati from the lottie
 I'm packing y'all in, a Rottie mixed with the Dalai Lami
 You mad I ain't as lame as you
 Eating beats like some Asian food
 Flowing that's uncontainable
 Rooftop, amazing view
 A million rappers in the game but I'mma make it soon
 They spending money for me, now I'mma pay for you
 Squash you like a tomato do
 Burners while high will blaze at you
 My mami take the pillow and bite it when I be lacin' it
 It's undebateable
 Roll around with a hater crew
 Mac was born in '92 but he rhyme like he from '82
 (Sicker than your average-- who's really the shit?)
 (1-9-8-2. 1-9-rhymes-too)
 ♪
 (1982, the album coming soon, bitch!)