Macklemore & Ryan Lewis, un dúo que ha dejado una huella imborrable en la industria musical, está compuesto por el rapero Macklemore (cuyo nombre real es Ben Haggerty) y el productor Ryan Lewis. La historia de cómo se unieron es tan fascinante como su música.
Ben Haggerty nació el 19 de junio de 1983 en Seattle, Washington. Desde joven, mostró un profundo interés por la música y la cultura hip-hop. A la edad de seis años, comenzó a escribir letras, y a los 15, ya estaba involucrado en el rap. Haggerty adoptó el nombre artístico de "Macklemore" mientras estudiaba en la Garfield High School. Continuó su amor por la música en la Universidad Estatal de Evergreen, donde se enfocó en educación musical.
Ryan Lewis nació el 25 de marzo de 1988, también en el estado de Washington. Su inclinación por la música y la tecnología lo llevó a la producción musical desde joven. Lewis se graduó de la Roosevelt High School en Seattle y asistió a la Universidad de Washington, donde siguió perfeccionando sus habilidades como productor y DJ.
El destino los unió en 2006 cuando Ryan Lewis fue contratado para realizar fotografías promocionales para Macklemore. Sin embargo, no fue hasta 2008 cuando empezaron a trabajar juntos de lleno. La química entre ellos fue inmediata; compartían un entendimiento profundo sobre la música y una visión similar
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I need two bad bitches and a bag of good weed
Need an 80 inch screen, that's a big TV
I need Addies to stay up, I need Xannies to get sleep
God, give me drugs, all the lean that I can drink
All my haters, suck a dick, rest in peace
And to all the opposition you can come and get me
When I finally do some good, I need everyone to see
But please, I need you to pray for me
Had two whips, put them on gold D's
Saw Lil Baby's, I went and bought 3
Can't fly commercial, that shit ain't luxury
I need duffles, duffles, Louis, Gucci, and Balency
I need shoes, shoes, all 23
Fill the closet, buy them all and I don't even wear these
I need a necklace, I need watches, I need bezels, I need wallets
Need my diamonds to be flawless, matching no canaries
I need more, more, I'll pay whatever fee
Put me on a billboard, face on every magazine
I want it all, run it up, what the fuck is wrong with me?
'Cause I got everything and I still ain't happy
I got everything I need
So why am I falling to my knees?
I got racks on me, money ain't a thing
All I really want is to be free
Look at me, I got everything I need
So why am I falling to my knees?
I got racks on me, money ain't a thing
All I really want is to be free
Look at me
Look at me
I need a new hairline, I need better abs
My girl a Burkin bag, then BBL her ass
All the homies jealous, I can't trust none of them
So I cut my day ones off like fuck it, keep them coming
I need all new friends, they gotta be famous
Showing everybody that I really fucking made it
I need a new girl, she gotta be a model
Or a rapper, or a actor, or a fucking TikTok-er
But we need to breakup, we need to make it public
I'm going to call her a slut, make a track: Fuck that dumb bitch
And I need to rent a yacht, need to go to Miami
Move to Calabasas, get a private bowling alley
And I don't even bowl, but I'ma make a statement
Fuck you mean? I'm going to say it
I need to be the favorite
Saw the NBA players and I'm on Obama's playlist
Fuck a top 5, fuck them all, yep, I'm the greatest
I need love, love, I'm making history
I need paparazzi popping pictures every place I be
I want it all, want it all
The American dream
I got everything and I still ain't happy
I got everything I need
So why am I falling to my knees?
I got racks on me, money ain't a thing
All I really want is to be free
Look at me, I got everything I need
So why am I falling to my knees?
I got racks on me, money ain't a thing
All I really want is to be free
Look at me
Look at me
I want to be seen, I want to be loved
I want to be felt, don't want to be judged
I need some healing 'cause I cannot feel it, so pour up another double cup of mud
I do not know who the hell I am, done so many drugs I lost who I was
Every person I let in my circle is secretly lurking and out for blood
I got 40 thousand tucked under my mattress
And a ratchet in case anyone'll figure out the address
Security system in my attic, staring at it
I'm still flexing on the 'Gram just to show 'em that I have it
That's the fucking price of fame
Ain't never going backwards
But none of this is working, where's the purpose in this palace?
Pop a perc 30, girls twerking, just another purchase
Spiritually sick, I didn't even know I was malnourished
Everything is desolate
Botox my forehead, they can't see how stressed I am
Everything I ever wanted, the trinity
Money, power, respect
In the end were the three things that lead me to death