Mac Miller, Choo Jackson - Vices lyrics

Yeah, okay yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, I'm on yo' head yeah, I'm on yo' head
Okay, I'm on yo' head i'm on yo'   (yeah)

Okay, I'm on yo' head like a
Bookie when you overdue
Been dead, I just wrote the tune
I'm CNN to the local news
See, what I do inside this vocal booth
Can only be described as a
Screw when it's goin' loose
I know the truth is only
Spoken to a chosen few
Know the rules get broken like a bone
When I get hold of you so don't you move
Hotel room of hoes come with ocean views
Heaven here below the roof
Heaven here below the roof
She lick the liquor off me
It's a hobby tryna keep all
Of these bitches off me
When they really want me, and the
Dick is godly, stick is Crosby
It isn't hockey
But this game is cold as veins
That flow within a zombie
Bless you when I'm in your body
The main event on every television set
So don't forget to watch me
Became rich, I ain't been the same since
Now my whip speak a different language
And it's always talkin'

I'm no angel, no wings, no halo
I got vices too woah, woah, woah, woah
I get fed up and I get fucked up
Said, I got vices too woah, woah, woah, woah

Jameson and ginger ale, please
I'm stressin', gotta get this cheese

Jameson and ginger ale, please
Jameson and ginger ale, please
(Bartender! Bartender)
Jameson and ginger ale, please

I know I'm hard to handle lookin' for me
Find me at the bottom of a barrel
Yeah, work some other cheap
Skirts like old Camaro
Lookin' like a pharaoh
Can't find the actavis
These niggas sippin' yellow
I thought I always had to drink
To try to fight depression
Now I go and spend the bank
Up on a normal necklace
Now I'm jumpin' in these bitches
Just to ease the pressure
I always keep the golden glover
That my lethal weapon
I always had the crazy visions
Of the foreign vessels
Stressed out, pop a blood vessel
Took off like a skud missile listen, man
I always been in rule since middle school
Gotta stay fucked up, that's the golden rule
Ain't too much to prove
They wanna drink the juice
So they gotta squeeze the prune
Got bills while I'm lookin' for a freak
God, I'll deal with that shit next week
Next week

I'm no angel, no wings, no halo
I got vices too woah, woah, woah, woah
I get fed up and I get fucked up
Said, I got vices too woah, woah, woah, woah

Jameson and ginger ale, please
I'm stressin', gotta get this cheese

Jameson and ginger ale, please
Jameson and ginger ale, please
(Bartender! Bartender)
Jameson and ginger ale, please