All I Know

[Intro: DJ Ill Will] My name's Johnny You are now in tune with your wifey's favorite DJ, DJ Ill Will [Chorus: Tom-Oh] Pull up to the shows in fancy clothes Slap hands, give dabs, that's how it goes Hotel room L's are bein' rolled Man, it's all I know, man, it's all I know, oh Pull up to the shows in fancy clothes Slap hands, give dabs, that's how it goes Hotel room L's are bein' rolled Man, it's all I know, man, it's all I know, oh [Verse 1: Tom-Oh] Uh, smoke an L before the show (L) Packin' up our bags, smoke an L before we go Rollin' up a Zone before we gotta hit the road (Yeah) Once we leave the stadium, I'll introduce you to my dome Yup, that's a routine for me, see It ain't even Christmas and I'm lightin' up the tree Stoppin' at the diner, get some grub, then bounce and hit the Vangy Pullin' out the Dutchie, roll a blunt up on the mangy Whippin' like a star, got my own constellation Bitches say they know me, tryna strike up conversation Sayin' I'm amazin', and tryna get my number Tellin' me I went to junior high with her brother Walkin' in fresh from my head to the ground Said my back's all white, I've been sleepin' on a cloud Parents say they're proud that I made it this far But they'll take it right back when they smellin' their car [Chorus: Tom-Oh & Mac Miller] Pull up to the shows in fancy clothes Slap hands, give dabs, that's how it goes Hotel room L's are bein' rolled Man, it's all I know, man, it's all I know, oh Pull up to the shows in fancy clothes Slap hands, give dabs, that's how it goes Hotel room L's are bein' rolled Man, it's all I know, man, it's all I know, oh (Yeah, Mac Miller, bitch; DJ Ill Will) [Verse 2: Mac Miller] Uh, way to go, never runnin' outta gas Hundred-twenty on the dash, I don't never need a map Mr. Tom-Tom, can you please direct me where I'm goin'? Take a journey through my head, you'll be Motrin Lickin' and splittin' it, rollin' and hittin' it, bitches never change up Boy meets the world, no Cory and Topanga Different kinds of haters always tend to twist they face up Bitches want some magic, I ain't with Hermione Granger Lace up your cleanin' shoes, throw on designer clothes Grab your best weed, alcohol and finest hoes Finna have a player's ball, have her make the call Colors so bright and flamboyant that I paint the wall Every time I walk by, have these bitches cock-eyed Smokin' on some spinach, get me strong, call me Popeye You with them chicken heads, they just tryna get ya bread Think you gettin' pussy, end the night with just a kiss instead [Chorus: Tom-Oh] Pull up to the shows in fancy clothes Slap hands, give dabs, that's how it goes Hotel room L's are bein' rolled Man, it's all I know, man, it's all I know, oh Pull up to the shows in fancy clothes Slap hands, give dabs, that's how it goes Hotel room L's are bein' rolled Man, it's all I know, man, it's all I know, oh [Verse 3: Tom-Oh] [?] we be on our way To the afterparty, get tipsy, then sleep all through the day I need a break, man, I'm livin' in a dream (Uh-huh) [?] I need to get away, JFK, I catch a plane All these road trips are drivin' me insane Bitch, without a dollar in my wallet [?] that says, "Hello, I'm Thomas" I'm broke, I promise, but I'm always bein' honest (Yeah) Cheddar on my mind, I'm like a mouse, modest Wish I'm countin' numbers like you dial on a phone Rub a dollar bill on my neck instead of cheap cologne Got a fresh pair of kicks and my snap back, right? No skinny jeans, sir, I'm not that type Twistin' up another somethin' before we take flight Put my head on top the pillow and I'm out for the night [Chorus: Tom-Oh] Pull up to the shows in fancy clothes Slap hands, give dabs, that's how it goes Hotel room L's are bein' rolled Man, it's all I know, man, it's all I know, oh Pull up to the shows in fancy clothes Slap hands, give dabs, that's how it goes Hotel room L's are bein' rolled Man, it's all I know, man, it's all I know, oh