[Intro: RMC Mike]
(Ooh, sh*t, that's a Danny G beat)
Okay, gun draw, drop back, ni**a, hit him twice
b*tch
[Verse 1: RMC Mike]
Okay, gun draw, drop back, baow, hit him twice
I'm finna pour a whole fu*kin' pint, bring me ice
I don't like Tris, but Wockeisha give me life
SRT on everything I drive, it need lights
Press the gas once, watch me take off on a b*tch
You can get a discount on your life, ni**a, not a brick
He a ho, man, he won't bust a grape, he just talkin' sh*t
Made a hundred K fast as hell just talkin' sh*t
Hey, I'm the G.O.A.T., you ni**as won't believe it
He layin' on the ground with a hundred shells underneath him
My new b*tch and my baby mama got common features
I knocked down a lot of them hoes comin' out of Beecher
Burberry hat, shoes, belt, plus I got the socks
No, I would not battle you, I'm not Papa Doc
Lil' ni**a playin' in the mud, we got it off of rocks
Dog approached my car a lil' too fast, almost shot a cop
Hey, Ri', get your ass up and come rap with me
Backseat fu*kin' on my ho, we in a 550
Throw you in the jungle with nothin', can you survive with me?
Hey, how much drank can I buy with like nine fifties?
Three ounces and a quarter line
I had the money on me, but I couldn't afford to buy
In Atlanta with a hundred thousand on me, lookin' for a Georgia pie
Bae, I'm off three Oxycontins, I'm more than high
I know I'm ugly, but all these hoes think I'm a gorgeous guy
I made a fat check off of rap snacks, come get your order now
I'm probably only ni**a in my hood that got the Oregon 5s
Play with my name and I'll send you to the Lord of mines
Off-White sneakers with the spikes look like porcupines
Here, you can take your money back, you was short a dime
Drip everywhere in my room, I need to organize
Damn, I need some purple cough syrup, the Morton kind
I don't sip on that sh*t, I be drinkin' heavy
I'm finna drop another chain, got a thing for Gary
Seventy-five rounds at the bottom, just aim when you ready
He caught one to the back of his head, now his brains spaghetti
Pull off on the scene in a Tesla, it was— woah, alright
Pull off on the scene in a Tesla, it was dead silent
No bullsh*t, I just took off on a red Viper
Bro got a thing for killin' cops, he a fed finder
b*tch, all I do is smoke weed, you a med buyer
[Verse 2: Rio Da Yung OG]
b*tch ass flat as hell, sh*t look like a wet diaper
Just got a method from 10kKev, he a vet swiper
Oh, you was lookin' for me? I'm at the set probably
Or ridin' down 9 and Dequindre in a 'Vette probably
Thirty racks, one night, I went to six parties
Big-ass nickel on my waist hurt my hip kinda
Me and Mike just got some new chains, we hit a lick Friday
b*tch can't keep her mouth closed, she su*k dick probably
My b*tch tryna get her body done, took her tit shopping
I seen a ni**a trickin' with a b*tch, but he was rich probably
Me and Quonny used to flush Act', I ain't sip Quali'
Dog tryna get his bucks back, he at the gym probably
Hah, you get it?
If you see your b*tch starin' at me, I hit it
I was gettin' red thirty-five a line and I miss it
No h*mo, but Mike pulled up with a pint, I almost kissed it
The mailman ain't approaching my house right, I almost killed him
ni**a pulled up with some fake Percs, I'm be-livid
Yeah, I'm pissed off
He pull up with the 'bows and try to tax and got ripped off
Nowadays, five, ten thousand when I trick off
Teeth fallin' out one by one 'cause I sip raw
He tried to reach for the gun, blew his hip off
Hit him in his nose with the K, blew his lip off
Drinkin' lean, tryna watch the game
My cup damn near gone 'fore the tipoff
Hittin' this rap b*tch, I'm just prayin' to God it don't slip off
b*tch gave me the best head, she su*ked my dick off
ni**as can't wait for me to slip so they can get off
They like, "Ain't he on probation?" Then Rio let the stick off
Ten minutes later
Seen him at the store, hopped out with FN and I chased him
ni**as always thinkin' sh*t sweet 'til I bake 'em
Twelve racks for my white buffs, I'll break 'em
Oh yeah, dog and 'nem still gettin' drop, I hate 'em
Before I popped him up with the Glock, I Maced him
After I hit him with the nine, I tased him
I would call lil' dog my son, but I ain't raise him
I was gettin' a hundred for a piece of dope size of a raisin
It's ironic, soon as you left the spot, it got raided
When the drink went up to three hundred a line, I paid it
Everybody sayin' I'm straight, but I feel like I ain't made it
Five years in the feds got me feelin' kind of crazy
That's why I work, work, work, can't be feelin' like I'm lazy
Me and Mike was rollin' zips, you was pinchin' out of eighties
Your mama work at GM, I got her pension on me daily
ni**a, fu*k is y'all talkin' 'bout, ni**a?