Vices

[Intro: Mac Miller] 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) [Verse 1: Mac Miller] 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' [Chorus: Mac Miller & Choo Jackson] 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 [Post-Chorus: Choo Jackson] 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 [Verse 2: Choo Jackson] 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 [Chorus: Mac Miller & Choo Jackson] 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 [Post-Chorus: Choo Jackson] 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