Lyrics O.K. (feat. Tyler, The Creator) [Bonus Track] - Mac Miller , Tyler, The Creator

Get 'em Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Mac, Mac (yeah), Mac, Mac
Get 'em, ah (I got it)
Girl, shake that body
Get 'em Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Get 'em, ah (oh shit, oh shit)
Girl, shake that body (oh shit, oh shit)
Get 'em

Woah, what do we have here? (Woah)
People wanna know how we could be that weird (that weird)
How many hoes wanna clean Mac's beard? (My beard)
I kill flows, think I need that tear on a tattoo (uh-huh)
My bitch suck, she a vacuum (let's go)
Fuck her in the ass every time I'm in a bad mood (uh)
Ain't got a choice, no, she do it 'cause she have to
I hit it raw while I'm listening to Papoose (woo)

No respect (oh), 'cause you wear a V-neck (oh)
Got me stressed, pressure that could even make Keith sweat (woo)
I wish Narnia was on a GPS (I wish)
I wish Rihanna was DTF (bad bitch)
I got rich with these rap songs (songs)
Bought a drug problem, now the cash gone (it's all gone)
Album filled with all sad songs
But this the one that I can laugh on (haha)

Get 'em Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Get 'em, ah
Girl, shake that body
Get 'em Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Get 'em, ah
Girl, shake that body

Girl, shake that body, them ass and totties
I wanna see them cankles at my hotel lobby (no nigga, fuck you)
Bitch, why you so damn snobby? (Uh-huh)
Your ass flatter than the back of my head
I bought you dinner, now it's time to pay me back with some head
Or I'ma have my little sister beat the back of your head (uh, uh)
I'm a grade-A douchebag, I'm a dickhead
Asshole area where my gooch sag

Little mama got salty at me, she started talkin' tough
So I called the Wolf Gang up, they start to bark it up
Popped a hundred mollies, fifth of sherm, think I was sparkin' up
A bottle of Zima, the Bimmer, I started parking up
Seen my nigga, Mac, and he hopped in the back
And then we jet to Fatburger, ordered some Big Macs (motherfucker)
And bitch came with a gauge, and she wanted my fade (fuck you)
But I'm a bitch-ass nigga (yeah), so I say

Get 'em Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Get 'em, ah
Girl, shake that body
Get 'em Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Mac, Mac, Mac, Mac
Get 'em, ah
Girl, shake that body

T-Dollaz and Mac Meezy
Makin' sure you niggas don't win like referees
Looking for the bitches that love to suck peewee, Herman, I'm a vermin
And you could tell I golf with my hat, bitch, fuck Thurnis

Um, I'm at IHOP to eat with Tyler (yum)
Drink cocoa, then double-team Mariah (let's do that)
But please, don't tell Nick
We were all watchin' movies at a Motel 6 (okay)
Like ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha-ha
I hope Kendrick fucked Gaga (for real)

If Madonna on the Kabbalah
Then me and Snoop could chill and be Rastas
I don't need Prada to show you I'm rich
Pulling out the llama like, "Show me your tits"
Keep crying 'cause I still ain't over my bitch, oh well

It'll be okay