The Hold Up

[Intro: DJ Diggz, Beedie & Mac Miller]
That's how it is
Ill Spoken, How High: The Mixtape
Rated R, Diggz, [?].com
Hey, yo, yo, Mac, what's good, son?
What's good, Beedie?
Ayo, yo, yo
Ayo this cat, he say he wanna battle you, yo (What?)
Can't forget Brick
The whole Time Bomb crew
Aight, yo (Let's go) Ayo

[Verse: Mac Miller & Beedie]
See, we rode up in the Cadillac (Yo), grindin' like a cataract (Go get your life right) *record rewind*
Made it to the party (Yo), it was poppin' like—*record scratches*
See, we rode up in the Cadillac (Yo), grindin' like a cataract *record scratches*
Made it to the party (Yo), it was poppin'— *record scratches* (Uh)
See, we rode up in the Cadillac (Yo), grindin' like a cataract
Madе it to the party (Yo), it was poppin' like a Snapple cap (Chyеah)
There was this one kid that said he wanted to battle Mac
And I was there just in case I had to have his back, yeah (Yeah)
And when I rocked, this rap dropped the cat kinda like a boxin' match
Threw him off the roof to see if he'd make a proper splat
Cops came around talkin' down to me (Damn)
I was sweatin' 'bout this ounce of tree that they found on me (Chill)
Told 'em that he, lost his footin', pissin' off the balcony
Fell a thousand feet, broke every bone in his body, and drowned in pee
And no one was around to see, so stop clownin' me
I was on the roof and the whole party wizzled down at three
Son, I really don't have to hurt you
But it's three in the mornin', which is way past your curfew (So?)
I have a dish of justice from which I could serve you (And?)
And don't try and run 'cause this gun ain't gon' squirt you
Pain his name with the pick in his mouth
A fat dip in his lip, he was spittin' it out
Look like a hick from the south, tighter shirt than a gay man
That comb-over cut with some Aviator Ray-Bans (Haha)
Pain on his name sign, holdin' back a K9
Hip-hop police, at least I heard it through the grapevine
See, this the fed that would arrest you in the daytime
(Son, what's this bag of marijuana?) Haha, well, it ain't mine
Ha, it ain't mine, I just hit 'cause it taste fine (Uh-huh)
I swear that I did it in hell; in hell, I don't waste time
(They said ya' lyin' 'cause I seen you up in the south-side)
(Plus, I seen ya' face on a poster that states "How High") Haha
I screamed, "Oh my, you must've gotten me mistaken" (Uh-huh)
I reached up for his gun, he grabbed my wrist to start to break it
Now, I ain't fakin' when I say the jake is the enemy (True)
He didn't feel I respect him, so he beat it up into me (Haha)
Hip-hop; the penalty is death before we settle these
Beefs with police is tryna take a bigger shred of cheese (Fuck 'em)
He said to freeze so I got at the fence and jumped (Peace)
And ran back to the crib, grabbed a shotty, and pumped it
I started dumpin' at the crowd that was surroundin' me
This semi-automatic splattin' heads up on the balcony (Shit was crazy, what?)
I looked at Mac and said, "We better run
Fuckin' get a gun so we can fall back with cheddar to burn" (Yo)
Ayo, you think they'll find where we hidin' at? (Nah)
Well, I say no, let's lay low and count up our paper
Peepin' the pay roll (Woah, money), people get played, yo (Uh-huh)
That's how it has to be, livin' with no limits, need digits similar to Master P ( that's cheese!)
And every day it feels like I'm livin at faster speeds
Gon' keep roamin' until I crash, the catasphrope (Yeah)
See, these bastards be up on my back while I be runnin'
In the neighbors' yards, I get to bask and weave at sum'n (Peace)
I'm in and out quickly (Yup, yup), smooth and swiftly
Yo, watch for the cops on my back tryna get me
Nah, they ain't gon' find us, them pussy cops just vaginas
Let's split up this money, see you mañana (Sho' riiight, got you)
You know they ain't gon' hold us
They probably already found they way to Dunkin' Donuts (Pigs)
So on the wages grab some blunts that we could fold up
Waitin' in the car, so what's the hold-up?

[Skit: Mac Miller, Beedie & Cashier]
(Ayo) Ayo, man, let me get two Swishers
(Do you have ID?) Nah
(Hey, no ID, no blunt) Man, come on, man
You see me every day, man (No ID, no blunt) Come on, man
Aight, yo, fuck (Hahaha)
Ayo, Beedie, man
Ayo, what's good, man? You get them blunts? What the fuck, son?
Nah, yo, they carded me, man (Pssh)
Just—just gr—just get it out— (Give me the fuckin' dollar, I'm fuckin'—)
Man, fuck you, Beedie (Whatever)