[Intro: RMC Mike]
(Ooh, shit, that's a Danny G beat)
Okay, gun draw, drop back, nigga, hit him twice
Bitch
[Verse 1: RMC Mike]
Okay, gun draw, drop back, baow, hit him twice
I'm finna pour a whole fuckin' pint, bring me ice
I don't like Tris, but Wockeisha give me life
SRT on everything I drive, hemi life
Press the gas once, watch me take off on a bitch
You can get a discount on your life, nigga, not a brick
He a ho, man, he won't bust a grape, he just talkin' shit
Made a hundred K fast as hell just talkin' shit
Hey, I'm the G.O.A.T., you niggas won't believe it
He layin' on the ground with a hundred shells underneath him
My new bitch 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' nigga 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 fuckin' 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 nigga 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 shit, 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 bullshit, I just took off on a red Viper
Bro got a thing for killin' cops, he a fed finder
Bitch, all I do is smoke weed, you a med buyer
(Ooh, shit, that's a Danny G beat)
Okay, gun draw, drop back, nigga, hit him twice
Bitch
[Verse 1: RMC Mike]
Okay, gun draw, drop back, baow, hit him twice
I'm finna pour a whole fuckin' pint, bring me ice
I don't like Tris, but Wockeisha give me life
SRT on everything I drive, hemi life
Press the gas once, watch me take off on a bitch
You can get a discount on your life, nigga, not a brick
He a ho, man, he won't bust a grape, he just talkin' shit
Made a hundred K fast as hell just talkin' shit
Hey, I'm the G.O.A.T., you niggas won't believe it
He layin' on the ground with a hundred shells underneath him
My new bitch 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' nigga 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 fuckin' 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 nigga 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 shit, 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 bullshit, I just took off on a red Viper
Bro got a thing for killin' cops, he a fed finder
Bitch, all I do is smoke weed, you a med buyer
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