Текст песни Black Acura - Pac Div feat. Mac Miller
Show
out
for
the
girls
and
get
your
ass
whipped
On
some
8th
grade,
right
front
of
the
class
shit
You
gon'
try
to
test
me
but
I'mma
pass
it
I'm
a
motherfuckin'
genius
and
you
in
some
bad
shit
Step
'round
a
corner
with
my
crewneck
on
Hammer
can't
touch
me,
man
I'm
too
hands
on
I
don't
know
you
man,
we
ain't
never
been
to
school
together
We
ain't
ever
shared
weed,
bitches,
or
ate
food,
never!
They
say
money
never
sleeps,
gotta
have
two
hustles
Since
I'm
bagging
duffels,
I
got
ashy
knuckles
Carry
'em
to
the
bank,
now
I
got
big
muscles
Man
I
do
my
thing,
I
got
fans
in
Brussels
Y'all
think
I
made
it,
I'm
just
getting
started
Man
I'm
just
saying,
that
shit
retarded
Y'all
think
I
made
it,
I'm
just
getting
started
Man
I'm
just
saying,
y'all
shit
retarded
(I
just
got
excited,
man
I
almost
farted
That's
too
much
information,
my
bad,
I'm
sorry
We
got
syndication,
our
shit
go
hardest)
And
that's
why
she
choose
and
that's
why
you
lose,
my
nigga
you
garbage
Not
to
be
harsh
but
fuck
it,
your
bitches
look
parched
and
busted
And
I
bet
that
you
be
carpet
munching,
that
shit
we
spark
be
skunking
That
Pepé
Le
Pew
and
you
know
we
be
repping
the
crew
Pac
Div,
you
second
to
who?
Maaaaan,
ain't
nobody
be
checking
for
you
Must
we
remind
again,
must
you
rewind
again
I'm
off
three
Heinekens,
and
this
shit
is
effortless
too
I
done
stepped
on
your
shoes
and
spit
in
your
face
Disrespected
yo
bitch
in
your
place
You
still
want
a
autograph?
Gimme
a
break,
I'm
sick
and
disgraced
These
niggas
is
fake,
bitches
is
fake,
man
shit
is
just
fake
I
just
stay
to
myself,
I
don't
get
in
the
way
Got
bread
to
get,
got
head
to
get,
rap
etiquette,
don't
edit
this
Need
evidence,
been
repping
it,
ever
since...
bitch!
We
overfaded
in
the
function
and
we
getting
started
Shit,
a
nigga
blew
three
blunts
'fore
we
finished
parking
That
OG
make
a
nerd
broad
get
retarded
A
pretty
bitch's
dream,
a
freaky
bitch's
Mr.
Marcus
Popping
up
for
that
revenue,
standing
tall
like
I'm
7'2"
You
ain't
cut
from
that
same
cloth,
hell
nah
we
ain't
gettin'
no
checks
with
you
No
you
can't
get
no
checks
with
me,
get
these
niggas
from
next
to
me
Backstage
drinking
up
the
Yac,
nigga
you
ain't
get
no
text
from
me
Shit
pull
up,
I
can
pump
your
brakes,
that's
dopeboy
shit
we
pumping
base
Flex
so
hard
my
muscles
ache,
stack
that
bread
then
tuck
the
safe
If
it's
game
day,
I
quarterback,
that's
on
me,
them
boys
is
back
All
I
know
is
that
fly
shit,
got
pimp
game
on
my
boarding
pass
Fuck
what
you
talking
'bout,
I
be
making
G's
Posted
up
in
the
parking
lot,
dangling
my
keys
Fuck
what
you
talking
'bout,
I
was
overseas
Posted
up,
Polo
down,
catch
me
dangling
my
keys
If
you
try,
you'll
find
I'm
rhyming
in
some
Iversons
In
the
ocean,
riding
dolphins,
grab
'em
by
the
fin
Uh,
yea
bitch
I'm
ten
feet
tall
Bunch
of
hoes
playing
with
my
beach
balls
The
money
in
the
way,
I
don't
see
y'all
Finally
making
paper
legal
Bitch
I'm
flyer
than
a
seagull
Fresh
as
fuck,
that's
by
default
I
hit
Schoolboy
Q
to
borrow
bucket
hats
Why
you
talking
little
homie,
go
and
run
a
lap
Fuck
that
shit,
I
been
ether
Have
these
bitches
running
like
a
gym
teacher
So
you
can
go
and
do
a
hundred
drills
Twenty
years
old
with
a
couple
mill
It's
nothing,
I'mma
go
for
more
Just
became
a
wizard,
bitch
I'm
Okafor
Same
shit
you
been
told
before
These
some
raps
out
the
fucking
baking
soda
drawer
Yea
I
spit
that
crack
bitch
Mac
Div
1 The Return
2 Bank
3 Truth
4 Sneakerboxes
5 Faircrest Heights (Interlude)
6 Slow
7 Can't Help It
8 Fuck Y'all
9 Black Acura
10 Automatic
11 Cross-Trainers
12 Debo
13 No Superman
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