Mac Miller - Cut the Check Lyrics

[Flame] 🔥 Mac Miller - Cut the Check Lyrics

[Verse 1: Mac Miller]
I’m a motherfuckin’ fool (Yeah), cut the check
I’m a workin’ motherfucker, need a desk, shit
I don’t got a heart, I don’t even need a chest
I’m a mess, they be sayin’ they up next, that’s a stretch
Hold your breath, let me bow to the crowd, shit, I’m blessed
Well I must be, bitches want to fuck me, bump uglies on front street
The cards on the table, gin rummy
Have a blast, have a ball, have a motherfuckin’ great time
Beast, I’m a dog, got a squad full of K-9s
I’m a motherfuckin’ fool, cut the check
I’ma get it ’til there ain’t shit left to get
No stress, runnin’ suicides, don’t even break a sweat
I’m a threat, code red when your line get pressed
You gettin’ fucked by your contract, what the fine print says
Told you once; I told you twice; I get the lamb; it’s over rice
I whip the Lamb, it’s overpriced , the life is good—the hoes are dykes
This type of shit don’t happen overnight (God damn)
I’m a motherfuckin’ fool

[Chorus: Mac Miller]
This shit on one hundred degrees, hard as fuck, ain’t in a rush
I let the money come to me, I’m a businessman
I’m way too young to be this rich
Don’t know what to do with all this shit
I’m out of control, Lord, can you save my soul?
How convenient, you ain’t worried ’bout shit right now (Yeah)
How convenient (Oh yeah), you’re just tryna keep it lit right now
How convenient (Goddamn), screamin’ money over bitches right now
How convenient, bet you’re feelin’ like the shit right now (Yeah)

[Verse 2: Chief Keef]
How convenient, undefeated
Walked up in Neimans, spent the sac then I’m leavin’
Smokin’ on reefer, OG reekin’
If the cops pull me over they gon’ want to take the Bimmer
But I’ma do the dash, beat it like Tina
And I got my nina, boy, you better be subpoenaed
Walked in the spot, ice on, lights on, blingin’
Someone start a fire ’cause it’s fuckin’ freezin’
I’m high off life, give me the blunt, I’ma roll it
I got hot rocks, I’ma let you hold it
I was posted with the hammer, y’all was tellin’ police
Now I wrestle with the racks, bitch, I’m Mick Foley
Shit made me go, “Woo,” like Rick Florer
I mean Ric Flair, bitch boy, I’ve been player
You a bench warmer, boy, I’ve been playin’
Walked up the stairs, look at my shoes like, “Them cleaner”
But I should’ve worn the other ones ’cause them better

[Outro]
Cut the check