[Intro: Bill Murray & Mac Miller]
They’ve got the best equipment that money can buy. Hell, every team they’re sending over here has their own personal masseuse. Not masseur, masseuse. But, it doesn’t matter! Do you know that every mohawk competitor has electrocardiogram, blood and urine tests, every forty-eight hours to see if there’s any change in his physical condition? Do you know that they use the most sophisticated training methods from the Soviet Union, East and West Germany and the newest Olympic power, Trinidad & Tobago? But it doesn’t matter! It just doesn’t matter! It just doesn’t matter! I tell you it just doesn’t matter! It just doesn’t matter! It just doesn’t matter! It just doesn’t matter! It just doesn’t matter! It just doesn’t matter! It just doesn’t matter! Even if we win… if we win, ha! Even if we win! Even if we play so far over our heads that our noses bleed for a week to ten days, even if God in Heaven above comes down and points his hand at our side of the field, even if every man, woman, and child held hands together and prayed for us to win, it just wouldn’t matter!
Yeah, yeah
Um, um
[Verse 1: Mac Miller]
Jumpin’ out the Camino
Just left the gas station, smell like Hot Cheetos
Recordin’ soft-core on her Tivo
Ma, the meatloaf
Re-smoke, got a vegan bitch in the Peace Corp
All she ever do is ask me what I eat meat for—hold up, pause
Always over the quota, boss
Wake up in polo, sleep in Lacoste
Travel across the world, but that didn’t phase me
Couple people that I know that happen to play me
Once they start to realize that I’m actually crazy
Shit, I’m actually crazy, um, and
Q’s phone gettin’ blown up by Lyor Cohen
Christian Dior, nothin’ I’m ownin’
Go to Hawaii, fuck with Samoans
Get faded and sleep in the oceans
[Interlude: Mac Miller]
Keep it in motion
I’m rollin’ (It in motion)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m rollin’
Keep it in motion
I’m rollin’, yeah
[Verse 2: Mac Miller & Delusional Thomas]
And your bitch wearin’ elbow pads
Sell her pussy over Melrose Ave
I’ve been to hell and back tryna get attached to my better half
Never that, the smile’s so gone, so bring the coke on
I’m higher than Voltron, with a bunch of gold on
Caucasians still love me like my name was Michael Bolton
Hold on, do you fuckin’ dirty like the soap gone
Froze on, it’s bone chillin’, colder than the Pope’s secrets
Older than Capone’s demons, comin’ from a place where there was no Jesus
Walkin’ bo-hemoth, I increase the feces
‘Cause shit real, fly into your windshield and get killed
Buggin’ out, had it all, I’m nothin’ now
I just gave it away
Fuck a label, Cain and Abel, put a name to a face
Um, yeah, I bust your speakers with some bullshit rap
I’m on drugs, all my new shit wack, remember that
I ain’t shit but a fraud
But everyone I know ain’t nothin’ to a god
But everyone I know ain’t nothin’ to God
[Outro]
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