Dive into the soulful lyrics of ‘Transformations’ sung by Mac Miller from the album ‘Balloonerism ‘ produced by Larry Fisherman. Everything ready, man? Features, man?…
Transformations Lyrics
[Intro: Delusional Thomas]
Just kidding
Everything ready, man? Features, man?
This is gonna be fucking crazy, bro
This one’s gonna be great, bro
[?]
This feature’s for the hip-hop world, like, so we gotta take this one seriously, bro
It’s really just [?]
He told me he wanted, he needed to do a feature [?]
And when you’re dealing with DJ Clockwork
You’re dealin’ with someone that, A. knows his hip-hop
He knows his hip-hop, he, you know, he’s a student of the game
And, and, and he treats his bars like a, you know, [?]
[?]
There’s a beer up there, there’s a beer in the fridge, there’s a, uh
Grab the Tecate and the Pacifico
‘Cause one’s a bottle, and one’s a can
I don’t know how, how much I’m tryin’ to go in
Thank you, bro
Yeah, um, alright
[Verse 1: Delusional Thomas]
Okay, so, alright, psychopathic thinker, hyperactive drinker
Blew my shit up with a thumb up, like Henry Winkler
My bitch is like a king cover, put it in her sphincter
Your bitch like a bad fart, all she do is linger
[Interlude: Delusional Thomas & Mac Miller]
What? Um, let me, let me try that again
Okay, like I was sayin’, alright, said, um
[Verse 2: Delusional Thomas]
I’m a psychopathic thinker, hyperactive drinker
I blew my shit up with a thumb up, like Henry Winkler
My bitch is like a king cover, put it in her sphincter
Your bitch like a bad fart, all she do is linger
Shit, I should have been a singer
I should have been Curt Schilling, woulda had a sinker
Ahead of y’all chillin’, you lookin’ at my blinkers
Rappers just some bumblebees, pullin’ out your stingers
Yeah, I’m gettin’ high, smokin’ weed again
And lean for the low, **** for the medium
Couple of my homies were on CNN
I changed the channel once they went into commercials
Yeah, delusional Waldo Emerson
Just like you, I love football and lesbians
Never deal with bitches, ’cause bitches are some thespians
Save the drama for your motherfuckin’ mama
Oh Jesus, who’s the rapper with the gold penis?
Put away your money, scrub, I ain’t doin’ no features
This ain’t a motherfuckin’ drill, bitch, I’m young Jehova
In the backyard with pads on, runnin’ Oklahoma’s
Get low
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