Rich Porter Or Pookie Rome Streetz

*INTRO SKIT*
[Verse 1: Rome Streetz]
Ayo
Fuck a handout I get my own I don't need ya ends
We was whippin' work with the stove pilot on medium
Weird niggas cappin' about trappin' we not believing them
I drop it a point if you comin' to cop at least a ten
Gotta couple poppin' spots like cheetah print
Me and my guys divide the pie even thirty three percent
Mommy said please repent I'm sinning heavy
Still touching bloody money ducking dirty D's in the chevy
Kept the pieces in the sleeve of my Pelly
So I can serve you right quick with ease, just have all of my cheese ready
That's how it operates, you ain't fly you just dick ride other niggas cause you ain't got no poppin' traits
We out for the cake, pretty thots and lobster plates
Fly rocks coppin' potent products that they gotta taste
Lock jaws to the zombies by my grandmamas place
Ain't got no time to waste
You dropped a tape don't give that bullshit no time of day (FACTS!)
Every time I rhyme it's bombs away
Can't fuck with nothing that the don display
On your best day, claim king nigga checkmate
See through you fraudulent niggas like an X-ray
We blow trees and pop bottles on an opp's death date
For the rest got something hot for your chest plate (bow bow)
Motherfuckers