[Intro: RMC Mike]
Bitch
(I got so much Enrgy)
[Verse 1: RMC Mike]
The chop hold sentimental values
Your bitch a crackhead, she pop Valiums
Unc' had to flush a whole split inside the bathroom
Forced my way into the game and I ain't asked to
I need a home-cooked meal, fuck some fast food
Free Benji, boy, he used to bring that bag through
Lil' bitch think I'm a dog, I fed her catfood
I made her pay me on the first, now we back cool
[Verse 2: Rio Da Yung OG]
Brodie, this a whole 'bow, you gotta weigh it right
I just drunk six O's, that shit gave me life
Nigga snitched and still got twenty years, they should've gave him life
I'll drive to Oklahoma if they pay thе price
I'm out here sеllin' half of grams for two-eighty-five
The shit I sell for fifty dollars look like a grain of rice
My fiend spent two thousand in a day, I made him stay the night
Tried to take a look at doggy chain, damn near strained my eyes
[Verse 3: RMC Mike]
He knew his shit was fake, he didn't look surprised
At the doctor office, six of red, tryna look alive
Unc' on the stove whippin' hard like he cookin' fried
New batch was unordinary, this shit took a five
I'm finna cop a split, watch me bubble off it
Fifty cal was too fuckin' big, I took the muzzle off it
Dog tried to middleman some 'bows, ain't make nothin' off it
Thousand some cards in this room, this a punch office
Bitch
(I got so much Enrgy)
[Verse 1: RMC Mike]
The chop hold sentimental values
Your bitch a crackhead, she pop Valiums
Unc' had to flush a whole split inside the bathroom
Forced my way into the game and I ain't asked to
I need a home-cooked meal, fuck some fast food
Free Benji, boy, he used to bring that bag through
Lil' bitch think I'm a dog, I fed her catfood
I made her pay me on the first, now we back cool
[Verse 2: Rio Da Yung OG]
Brodie, this a whole 'bow, you gotta weigh it right
I just drunk six O's, that shit gave me life
Nigga snitched and still got twenty years, they should've gave him life
I'll drive to Oklahoma if they pay thе price
I'm out here sеllin' half of grams for two-eighty-five
The shit I sell for fifty dollars look like a grain of rice
My fiend spent two thousand in a day, I made him stay the night
Tried to take a look at doggy chain, damn near strained my eyes
[Verse 3: RMC Mike]
He knew his shit was fake, he didn't look surprised
At the doctor office, six of red, tryna look alive
Unc' on the stove whippin' hard like he cookin' fried
New batch was unordinary, this shit took a five
I'm finna cop a split, watch me bubble off it
Fifty cal was too fuckin' big, I took the muzzle off it
Dog tried to middleman some 'bows, ain't make nothin' off it
Thousand some cards in this room, this a punch office
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