Forty Mill - MAC MILLER

Yea I pray to Mac Miller
Put a ring up on my finger
Red dot music finna give me jeepers creepers
Got me crawling out a rut like I just blew up in Ibiza
Take a trip out in the Burgh just to paint myself a picture
And that's word to Mac Miller, drinking Kool Aid, eating pizza
Just another night on my own I'm tryna reach ya
Having thoughts from a balcony just wishing I could meet ya
Got too many missed calls, and them fake congratulations
Sit alone, contemplating social suicide
Got demons in my brain and they be speaking to my other side (What what)
For now my brain be stuck on overdrive
Got poems in my head, I keep reciting til' they polarized
I know...
I'm everything but perfect
Keep on putting me on top but then you claiming me as worthless
Wanna stop for a moment, tell my feet right where the earth is
Second thoughts they make me nervous
Not as fluent as my verses, nah
As the rain trickles down on my shoulders
I take a deep breathe in and try to find myself closure
Because we lost a couple idols to the threat of mental illness
It ain't none of my business
But I count myself as a witness
Boutta unwrap like it's Christmas
But I'm coughing up rhymes like a sickness
Covering up my face social distance
Imma blow your mind within minutes
And I wanna make friends who ain't snakin'
Tryna find me a girl who ain't fakin'
These first world problems I'm facing
Then again I know who I'm blaming
Yea I pray to Mac Miller
Put a ring up on my finger
Red dot music finna give me jeepers creepers
Got me crawling out a rut like I just blew up in Ibiza
Take a trip out in the Burgh just to paint myself a picture
And that's word to Mac Miller, drinking Kool Aid, eating pizza
Just another night on my own I'm tryna reach ya
Having thoughts from a balcony just wishing I could meet ya
Got too many missed calls, and them fake congratulations
Changing stations til' I'm running out of patience
Got too many people playin' with my feelings
Why you playin' like that?
Exasperated due to miscommunication
Don't let anybody interrupt my healing
Why you calling me a heathen?
Late September, let's get cozy with the weather
Bring a sweater, we can talk about whatever
What's the use, that's word to Mac, I'm off the juice
Cut em' loose
Interrupt a youngin tying up a noose
He chasin' floose
I don't wanna see him make it on the news
I gotta choose
What my lyrics represent when I profuse
Got no excuse

Written by:
Ty Barone

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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