Artist: The Ill Spoken (Mac Miller & Beedie) f/ Vinnie Album: How High: The Mixtape Song: Say Goodnight (Freestyle) Typed by: thegrimreaper61@yahoo.com [Verse One: Mac Miller] The youngin' yo, wherein' his jeans low Chillin' with Vinnie and Beedie killin' this premo *Scratching* The youngin' yo, wherein' his jeans low Chillin' with Vinnie and Beedie... *Scratching* The youngin' yo, wherein' his jeans low Chillin' with Vinnie and Beedie killin' this premo Ill spoken basically I got that mean flow... *Scratching* The youngin' yo, wherein' his jeans low Chillin' with Vinnie and Beedie killin' this premo (You know) Ill spoken basically I got that mean flow I make it hot like you puttin' on three coats I spit remarkably where words actin' hard to see Spark the tree grab the pen and pad and just start the beat Cuz I'm just tryin (Cheew Cheew) right some shit Light a spliff, get high cuz life's a bitch So we had nights of mischief pittin' piff flippin' zips A fist of chips takin' they cats out the licorice I'm all skills no name no nothin' Game don't care the flame no chain no lovin' See, you spit fire EZ Mac's got that blue flame I'm heated, weeded, ready to do thangs This shit amazes me, thought I had a new brain And feelin' this dudes game is too plain By the Boom Bang! Cats thinkin' they can hang Got yourself a gun now cats thinkin' they can slang I kick knowledge at those who need to learn And I spit fire towards the Emcee's who need to burn Burn baby burn, its the baby's turn Crazy spittin' rabies aids be words Spreadin' sickness, sprayin' germs (germs, germs) Yeeeah and thats how it goes In case you haven't heard before (What?) Now you know [Verse Two: Beedie] Ay yo, I move on tracks like trains And drop jewls on tracks like chains Let a fat sack relax my brain I attack tracks with a flat my name Bitches kickin' classic cuz thats my name From the bread I am leavin' cats Posturpedic flat As Beedie gettin' cheezy its simple as EZ Mac The Ill spoken on the come up still smokin' when the blunt's done Cuz we that fire with a ass on one I hope you cat's just rap for fun Cuz we run laps around ya tracks Faster than the Nascar runs I just wanna smash somethin' with the ass on plumps Splash fast watchin' Mash reruns Its a Coke and Rum Hip hop ya hope has come How High gettin more playin' time than the culture son Known as Vinnie the truth Sure as 151 and I'll give 'em the proof So Beedie give 'em the proof [Verse Three: Beedie] On the mic I flip bars Like Dominique Dawes I'm on the hunt to get yours I kinda need to floss Gotta be the boss these other rappers is soft Like toilet tissue, so official I'm feelin' the sauce (What up!?) I'm in the club man but ain't nobody heard about me I'm in a pair Air Nike's and a dirty white tee I see a couple cuties and they lookin' at me Could it be I'm sippin' Vodka mixed with purple Hi-C Sippin' and spillin' fixin' the feelin' look I'm as sick as villens Whillin' at the bar without a proper ID I'll be the underage the rains person with rays It's ready to rip your heart out I feel it up in my veins (It's me) Vinnie and Mac spittin' plenty of crack Gimme a sack Im'ma flip to a penny a pack So, (hoe) who really don't track my train never stops Leavin' marks and scars on the mic, sizzlin' hot ya dig?