RMC Mike & Rio Da Yung OG - Havin Fun lyrics

[Intro: RMC Mike] (It's a Wayne beat) b*tch Yeah [Verse 1: RMC Mike] The date on my bottle say '09 The date on my bottle say '09, this my old juice My brother Ri' just spent seventy racks on an old-school ni**a really think he sippin' Act', but it's close to b*tch, this a stick-up, ni**a, don't move Five-seveN rippin' through his stomach like soul food Cut into a b*tch like, "Let me fu*k," yeah, I'm so rude Seen my opp, shot the car quick and hit the wrong dude Damn, I should've wore my Cartiers Told bro I need a deuce of Wock', this ni**a found me eight Damn, I wanna fu*k this b*tch bad, she got a godly shape Pull up on your block with six Dracs and make Rodney skate Pint of Wock' just callеd my phone, I'm finna race to it Drop an eight, pop two Pеrcocets, and make great music Lou watch cost so fu*kin' much, he got a safe to it It's still straight drop, but this batch got some grade to it [Verse 2: Rio Da Yung OG] I was finna hit the b*tch, but her pussy had a stank to it I just paid two thousand for an eight of fluid I make songs for inmates, I want ni**as to get shanked to it Eight of red in a small pop look like brake fluid I done shot so many guns, bro, I hate shootin' If you really caught me lackin', why you ain't shoot me? Advance check from the record label, I get paid Tuesday I am not finna chase your car down, bro, I ain't Scooter But I'll let these K bullets run behind you If you can still get a pint of Actavis, I wanna find you Four chains on right now, I might blind you And I been sh*t talkin' for eighteen months, must I remind you? Yeah, he probably got more chains than me, but he signed too Ghetto Boy piece on the way, we had to buy two sh*t, if I got hit with a K up close, I'd cry too sh*t, you better thank God they ain't die you I'm trippin', I mean kill you You be cappin' in them songs, I don't feel you ni**a, take the jewelry off, let us see the— Take the jewelry off, let us see the real you Sprayed a ni**a crib ten years ago and we still cool That is not white gold, that's stainless steel, dude Yeah, yeah, we know the real Three hundred racks off DistroKid, I don't want a deal I just found an eight of clean Wock', now I want a pill Damn, we just drunk that whole eight, now I want a seal The opps sick, how corona feel? L coupe baby blue box, Forgiato steering wheel Quarter-million-dollar ni**a, I'll kill you still If you buy more than five 'bows, I'll give a deal Beat a b*tch back in hard off a little pill Alright, I got enough chains on, I'm finna get a grill