Mac Miller, Skyzoo - Pen Game lyrics

Yo, PA to BK
Skyzoo, Easy Mac, Pittsburgh to NYC
I love money, I love money (yeah)
You take a buck from me, you Doug Funnie
(Y'all know what it is)
I said I love money, I love money
(Listen, check it, one-two)
You take a buck from me, better duck, dummy
(Yo, What up, Mac?)

With my man Skyzoo
(Yo) it's the class clown of his high school
Drown you in typhoons
Hittin' you with rhyme too (What's good?)
These haters keep they eyes glued
Pound if you my dude (Yo, what up?)
We stay high like Einstein's IQ
And y'all ma'fuckers know where
I'm comin from' chewin' cats up
Like a lil' piece of bubblegum (Bubblegum)
Tryin' double sum's, hustle


Wanna let my money run
I ain't even battlin' dude
I'm having fun with 'im (Haha)
Jokes make him feel wrong in his own skin
Sippin' gin from a bin that's
Makin' my dome spin (Dome spin)
And you the type to try and
Take from your own kin
Feel it close on your toes
Hangin' by clothes pins
I'm spittin blades, Goddamn it
My tooth hurts a mouth filled with a
Bunch of cancerous tumors
Yup, music's my baby, I ain't gon' lose her
So I stay with a radio
Like Cuba Gooding Junior (You know)

"Who you think could body me lyrically?"
"In the middle of Alaska I'll write a heater"
"My worst verse hot as your best rhyme, damn"
"The pen game insane"
"Who you think could body me lyrically?"
"In the middle of Alaska I'll write a heater"
"My worst verse hot as your best rhyme, damn"
"The pen game insane"

I'm one drink away from everything
You meant to say like I think he on the rise
To what the kings made
And in the blink of an eye
I'm on the king's page
But no album, this is all
Off of the mixtapes, and
In a different lane, no signs of road rage
'Cause ain't nobody over here to rage wit'
There's no gains
No sleep, no retreat, no surrender
No apologies from me
I'm the penner of the penners
I mean what I speak
So if I givin' you a sentence
Then it be's what it be's
Nothing hid on the agenda
You leave it up to me
And you can divy up your team
Put your pride in the air
And I'm dismembering your members
The heart of the city
The startin' point guard
That can play up to the fall
So the parts is all gone
No room on the bench and I
Got a no trade clause
So I'm here, long haul, no switchin'

"Who you think could body me lyrically?"
"In the middle of Alaska I'll write a heater"
"My worst verse hot as your best rhyme, damn"
"The pen game insane"
"Who you think could body me lyrically?"
"In the middle of Alaska I'll write a heater"
"My worst verse hot as your best rhyme, damn"
"The pen game insane"

Yo, look, yo
I rip mics to pieces, cook 'em or eat 'em raw
(Raw) was bustin' freestyles before I
Could read at all (Haha)
MCs just call me the monster in their mind
That'll haunt 'em all the time and
They thought that if they rhyme
They could make the situation lil'
Different then the present (What?)
See, I fucked this track
Worried that I got it pregnant
I'm haulin' ass, y'all is whack
Taking out the garbage, trash
Duckin' from these sharks and crabs
Givin' MCs heart attacks
It's your boy Mac, damn, I'm great
And you gets no love like a man with AIDS
I fill you dancin' gays
With some hand grenades
Drop bombs, remove your hands and legs
And I pray dear Lord please
Give me the strength
Not put these little snakes in
The tank 'til they faint
Suffocating, now you choke, you a broke MC
And there ain't nothing left to do but
Just smoke up your weed like

"Who you think could body me lyrically?"
"In the middle of Alaska I'll write a heater"
"My worst verse hot as your best rhyme, damn"
"The pen game insane"
"Who you think could body me lyrically?"
"In the middle of Alaska I'll write a heater"
"My worst verse hot as your best rhyme, damn"
"The pen game insane"