legend tells of mac miller and madlib collab album that was never released. MACLIB. there’s not two better crate diggers in the production game than larry fisherman and lord quas. RIP MAC. streets need it now more than ever.
Live like 9-5, I rhyme and come alive My grind divides fine through my divine eyes It's prime time, you wish you could buy time, but it's my time Thoughts against I, blasphemy, it's like a vice crime I roll 'em thick and I ignite mines I don't even get high, I just get equally back in my right mind I'm getting lethal with these nice lines Creeping through your speakers Catch you sleeping like a thief of in the nighttime Young Doms, none of you niggas correspond, bitch Kick the fuck out of the track on some Jean-Claude shit Get the fuck out of the streets, nigga, I bomb shit Shit ain't all good no more, y'all on your con shit The fuck is your conscience? Testing me is nonsense The whole city is mine, I'm the best up in my conference Ain't feeling me, fine, ain't gotta listen to my shit You can hear about me from the critics all on my dick Bitch, I've been thugging since the motherfucking Ten Speed Redbone on my handlebars, I like my bitches mixed breeds Feel the Philly tighten with a 20 sack of stress weed Educated, at the stove I'm working recipes Reputation say I'm robbing just for recreation Revive my enemy with gun-to-mouth resuscitation Can't wait to this pussy nigga pay me, I'm impatient Let's go kick in their door and strip them naked, leave 'em stinking No witness, no weapon, my nigga, the case is over The reaper snatched 'em, closed casket, his family needs a closure And Moses had ten commandments, Huey had ten points Won't see my homie for ten, dropped him off at the joint Staring at my future in my rear-view Family cried some tears, I got some years, it ain't no issue Mama with the tissue Saw her breaking down, she just might cry a river Murder one, she can't believe she raised that type of nigga I tried to do right, but it only got your boy fucked in the game So I changed my mind, now I'm back on this grind Trying to get this change Niggas hate to see me getting it Travelling packs with a red dot Boy, it ain't your knot, trying to get what you got When the rain and the pain gon' stop Standing on the porch early, no shoes, selling blow in my socks And I was watching for the ghetto bird Ain't got no money for college So all I know is how to sack and how to serve I be damned if I miss another lick for the chips Got me stacking, almost splurging on weed, syrup and whips Niggas around my way be loving it I'm Cadillac'ing, blowing good alligators with the belts to match I got an ounce with an ounce to match, bust it down, get back Hopefully maybe get the clique out the trap I need dough like a bread baker (Amen) 24/7, got ready on the turf, player All day Make 'em hop in the new coupe Nigga, but that ain't nothing new Forgive me for the sinning that they be doing in this business Not using their words to express truth Out in the streets with a screw loose On the Westside I got the juice Just tell me what you trying to do She loving the crew and ain't fucking with you I go where the hood niggas get into it I go where the bad girls go shop Every window tinted but the rooftop That money I'll just spend it to get you shot Can they be hating, they got no reason Right where they got me, the place I Delete 'em We kicking on weaklings just for all of their secrets I can't believe the shit that I'm seeing I'm hearing the words, doing my reading, it's really absurd Not enough leaders, the shit that they feed you, it's just what you eating They call me young Veggies, I make it go green I smash in all your teeth, the fuck is you saying? You got the candy's, the niggas is spraying To get away and take over the land, yeah My mind on capital, I'm not just rapping, dude I'm out to speak actual factual, watch how I master moves Your baller fist will daggle you I'm from a city clapping fools You off the tit lacking while watching me fashion stools Shitting styles, you never had a hot line that I didn't dial Little princess always trying to fit a bigger crown But don't forget I sit amidst some seasoned gents And just them bitches know he a pimp and even read the blimp It was a good day, good day to O'Shea A death certificate for anyone who lay in my way You best revisit all the tombstones that lay in my way Me being knowledge, be honest You seen the profit get sacrificed by the Oxy Get ratchet when ratchets out and they firing Residue on pinata's, wonder what's up inside of 'em It's sure ain't no Vicodin cause it up and excited 'em But they ain't get high enough, if you ain't succeed, nigga Buy again then try again It's the irrational type of nigga, the John Madden tackle you Steal your car keys and crash your coupe in the botanical Wrap you with shackles, tangle you, pull from ever angle, dismantle you Watch your blood mixed with mud and stain the gravel too Grab and shoot, rib cage open like a parachute Close range, Swiss blade, poke 'em if it's personal Blood stains, gold fangs, mask on, no traits Murder one, closed case, rolling with no plates Half a body in the trunk, go to prison, no way Speed off the Brooklyn bridge before I catch a cold case Realize I'm the voice for those who do not have a voice So I voice my fucking voice, I don't have a fucking choice Cold blooded, leave some niggas, well I hope you got insurance Shotgun and shorty lift 'em like the potent in my joint Barrels smoking like Red Auerbach Still can't believe I'm getting fed on rap I don't know what's louder, the pack or the gat My endorphins are morphin', absorbin' energy Original copy, A Tale of Two Cities gets read to me Reading Emersom novels eating some Belgian waffles Some powder go up my nostrils, my dick going down her tonsils What's up? Play with an abacus, I've been stressing like Catholics That's the shit, a bit of that happiness in my cup This generation corrupt, these people brainwashed with evil My music is more cerebral, exploring just what you need to So this your Exodus, church of the Methodist Beating up the pussy, have her screaming like the exorcist Absorbing through your pores, the Lord with horns, a world war Whores are more hors d'oeuvre when it's a world tour O'Doyle Rules
I'm like lighting Striking Made for this No right thing No wrong Be enlightened through song Touch like Midas grey to gold Not afraid won't fold Fight the good fight be strong Tryna contain your soul Ain't nobody know 💯 Snakes in high grass keep hummin Pick up with the flow Sip this garden hose Architectural Bargain all my clothes Starve a thristy whoa Not professional
My receptors gon bless ya when I peep the hips to the breasts Deep cover for stress, gathering liquor like ness Twenty two shots to the sky, who the fuck almighty gon die Fuck around we can find, in a show me state of misery my gun nose long and it gone sneeze Don’t step don’t breathe and you know peace Who blink first, satan Stare off, bitch I tend to pick em pairs off Hoe I tend to smoke and drink hedonistic tendencies Carousing party hardly moving alcohol is hearty for me moderation or exuberance, twisting doobies, tabs of lucy Smack me stupid, still I’m rapping, ain’t no fresher, ain’t no Cappin Pressure cooking, my whole life, since thirteen I twirled a knife Seventeen I held a tec out, Gotta keep fresh, dig a nail to flesh Gripping two glocks, turn a bitch to mesh Tryna be the best, bet I think you would Pushing double LP that certified wood Flow to stationary for these potent poems I float and carry Over bridge and underwater sleeping with the coy and guarded Godly posture, Buddha sitting, needle spitting sins unwritten So ho beck and call my style Young colt stepping half past hollow
legend tells of mac miller and madlib collab album that was never released. MACLIB. there’s not two better crate diggers in the production game than larry fisherman and lord quas. RIP MAC. streets need it now more than ever.
we gettin' it boy.
So many killer beats in this legendary album. Much respect to Madlib.
Sean Price would've murdered this. 🔥🔥 R.I. P!!!!!
R.I.P MAC MILLER
Odoyle rules... funniest part on the album, great way to end it
Live like 9-5, I rhyme and come alive
My grind divides fine through my divine eyes
It's prime time, you wish you could buy time, but it's my time
Thoughts against I, blasphemy, it's like a vice crime
I roll 'em thick and I ignite mines
I don't even get high, I just get equally back in my right mind
I'm getting lethal with these nice lines
Creeping through your speakers
Catch you sleeping like a thief of in the nighttime
Young Doms, none of you niggas correspond, bitch
Kick the fuck out of the track on some Jean-Claude shit
Get the fuck out of the streets, nigga, I bomb shit
Shit ain't all good no more, y'all on your con shit
The fuck is your conscience? Testing me is nonsense
The whole city is mine, I'm the best up in my conference
Ain't feeling me, fine, ain't gotta listen to my shit
You can hear about me from the critics all on my dick
Bitch, I've been thugging since the motherfucking Ten Speed
Redbone on my handlebars, I like my bitches mixed breeds
Feel the Philly tighten with a 20 sack of stress weed
Educated, at the stove I'm working recipes
Reputation say I'm robbing just for recreation
Revive my enemy with gun-to-mouth resuscitation
Can't wait to this pussy nigga pay me, I'm impatient
Let's go kick in their door and strip them naked, leave 'em stinking
No witness, no weapon, my nigga, the case is over
The reaper snatched 'em, closed casket, his family needs a closure
And Moses had ten commandments, Huey had ten points
Won't see my homie for ten, dropped him off at the joint
Staring at my future in my rear-view
Family cried some tears, I got some years, it ain't no issue
Mama with the tissue
Saw her breaking down, she just might cry a river
Murder one, she can't believe she raised that type of nigga
I tried to do right, but it only got your boy fucked in the game
So I changed my mind, now I'm back on this grind
Trying to get this change
Niggas hate to see me getting it
Travelling packs with a red dot
Boy, it ain't your knot, trying to get what you got
When the rain and the pain gon' stop
Standing on the porch early, no shoes, selling blow in my socks
And I was watching for the ghetto bird
Ain't got no money for college
So all I know is how to sack and how to serve
I be damned if I miss another lick for the chips
Got me stacking, almost splurging on weed, syrup and whips
Niggas around my way be loving it
I'm Cadillac'ing, blowing good alligators with the belts to match
I got an ounce with an ounce to match, bust it down, get back
Hopefully maybe get the clique out the trap
I need dough like a bread baker (Amen)
24/7, got ready on the turf, player
All day
Make 'em hop in the new coupe
Nigga, but that ain't nothing new
Forgive me for the sinning that they be doing in this business
Not using their words to express truth
Out in the streets with a screw loose
On the Westside I got the juice
Just tell me what you trying to do
She loving the crew and ain't fucking with you
I go where the hood niggas get into it
I go where the bad girls go shop
Every window tinted but the rooftop
That money I'll just spend it to get you shot
Can they be hating, they got no reason
Right where they got me, the place I Delete 'em
We kicking on weaklings just for all of their secrets
I can't believe the shit that I'm seeing
I'm hearing the words, doing my reading, it's really absurd
Not enough leaders, the shit that they feed you, it's just what you eating
They call me young Veggies, I make it go green
I smash in all your teeth, the fuck is you saying?
You got the candy's, the niggas is spraying
To get away and take over the land, yeah
My mind on capital, I'm not just rapping, dude
I'm out to speak actual factual, watch how I master moves
Your baller fist will daggle you
I'm from a city clapping fools
You off the tit lacking while watching me fashion stools
Shitting styles, you never had a hot line that I didn't dial
Little princess always trying to fit a bigger crown
But don't forget I sit amidst some seasoned gents
And just them bitches know he a pimp and even read the blimp
It was a good day, good day to O'Shea
A death certificate for anyone who lay in my way
You best revisit all the tombstones that lay in my way
Me being knowledge, be honest
You seen the profit get sacrificed by the Oxy
Get ratchet when ratchets out and they firing
Residue on pinata's, wonder what's up inside of 'em
It's sure ain't no Vicodin cause it up and excited 'em
But they ain't get high enough, if you ain't succeed, nigga
Buy again then try again
It's the irrational type of nigga, the John Madden tackle you
Steal your car keys and crash your coupe in the botanical
Wrap you with shackles, tangle you, pull from ever angle, dismantle you
Watch your blood mixed with mud and stain the gravel too
Grab and shoot, rib cage open like a parachute
Close range, Swiss blade, poke 'em if it's personal
Blood stains, gold fangs, mask on, no traits
Murder one, closed case, rolling with no plates
Half a body in the trunk, go to prison, no way
Speed off the Brooklyn bridge before I catch a cold case
Realize I'm the voice for those who do not have a voice
So I voice my fucking voice, I don't have a fucking choice
Cold blooded, leave some niggas, well I hope you got insurance
Shotgun and shorty lift 'em like the potent in my joint
Barrels smoking like Red Auerbach
Still can't believe I'm getting fed on rap
I don't know what's louder, the pack or the gat
My endorphins are morphin', absorbin' energy
Original copy, A Tale of Two Cities gets read to me
Reading Emersom novels eating some Belgian waffles
Some powder go up my nostrils, my dick going down her tonsils
What's up? Play with an abacus, I've been stressing like Catholics
That's the shit, a bit of that happiness in my cup
This generation corrupt, these people brainwashed with evil
My music is more cerebral, exploring just what you need to
So this your Exodus, church of the Methodist
Beating up the pussy, have her screaming like the exorcist
Absorbing through your pores, the Lord with horns, a world war
Whores are more hors d'oeuvre when it's a world tour
O'Doyle Rules
dat kicks equalization biiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch is dope
one of madlibs coldest beats
"Bitch I been thuggin' since the muthafuckin 10-speed!"
This beat is literally insane to listen to on acid lmaoooo actually got caught in the loop when spittin to this hahaha
Just gonna cancel my plans and listen to this! Thanks always
This shit is so funky. Hard ass beat
biiiiiiggggie!
Lol, I thought the same thing.. I knew a comment like this would be around.
I freestyle to this every week lmao
Geech Loves It
very talented bro
Righteous
representin buck town mac 11 cocked back n***as better duck down
+Spencer Gowen I always listened that biggie track only for the chorus and that line in particular... So glad I found out about this song
Love the Alex Goose remix too but I can't find the instrumental for that one
neither can i but i can give you the sample if you want
its "gole yakh" by Kourosh Yaghmaei
fantastic piece of persian psych rock
Like a boss.
dope as freak
Reminds me of the gravity falls intro theme song
This goes fucking insane
niiiiiceee
this shit kocks
all i can say is wow i like similar to that Bennie segal
I'm like lighting
Striking
Made for this
No right thing
No wrong
Be enlightened through song
Touch like Midas grey to gold
Not afraid won't fold
Fight the good fight be strong
Tryna contain your soul
Ain't nobody know 💯
Snakes in high grass keep hummin
Pick up with the flow
Sip this garden hose
Architectural
Bargain all my clothes
Starve a thristy whoa
Not professional
Yawaa gyud nimu mu buhat ug beat bai. Payter ka.
My receptors gon bless ya when I peep the hips to the breasts
Deep cover for stress, gathering liquor like ness
Twenty two shots to the sky, who the fuck almighty gon die
Fuck around we can find, in a show me state of misery my gun nose long and it gone sneeze
Don’t step don’t breathe and you know peace
Who blink first, satan Stare off, bitch I tend to pick em pairs off
Hoe I tend to smoke and drink hedonistic tendencies
Carousing party hardly moving alcohol is hearty for me
moderation or exuberance, twisting doobies, tabs of lucy
Smack me stupid, still I’m rapping, ain’t no fresher, ain’t no Cappin
Pressure cooking, my whole life, since thirteen I twirled a knife
Seventeen I held a tec out, Gotta keep fresh, dig a nail to flesh
Gripping two glocks, turn a bitch to mesh
Tryna be the best, bet I think you would
Pushing double LP that certified wood
Flow to stationary for these potent poems I float and carry
Over bridge and underwater sleeping with the coy and guarded
Godly posture, Buddha sitting, needle spitting sins unwritten
So ho beck and call my style
Young colt stepping half past hollow
0:11