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lirik lagu eat wit me – big quis

[intro: rmc mike]
yeah, b*tch
hah

[verse 1: rmc mike]
hey, kel*tec p50 on me, how i’m ridin’
take his striker, sell it for the high, reset the mileage
hey, teach a n*gga how to spice talk, i’m a college
show my d*ck to the secretary, now she smilin’
i wanna f*ck you and your friend, i’m just honest
rolls*royce top down, speedin’ down on collins
you ever counted out a fifty ball while you drivin’?
started from the bottom, took off, now i’m the pilot
ghetto boyz sh*t, we can’t be stopped
i sold unc’ some baby milk, it can’t be dropped
i f*cked my ex*b*tch mama, shе hate me now
i been done rappin’ for free, n*ggas pay mе now
hey, quis, i think this b*tch starin’ right in our direction
i been fell in love with rap, but now it’s my profession
i cannot rap with you for free, boy, that’s out the question
caught him sneak*dissin’ on the team, sent him up to heaven
sh*t, i can get you what you need for the right ticket
i’m in the booth by myself, just a pint with me
sick of all the cap rap, i’m really puttin’ my life in it
every time a body drop in my hood, they say, “mike did it”
[verse 2: big quis]
we sellin’ birds
if the police pull me over in this ‘vette, this pistol hers
i done done the unbelievable, now people call me [?][1:05]
bought another chain and walked like george jefferson out the jeweler
we gon’ ball forever
told my best friend to hold his patek up
wifey mad i cheated, she was famous, boo, i had to f*ck
made my circle small, the n*ggas really thought i needed them
got these n*ggas fooled, i’m sellin’ birds, they think that i’m a pimp
slide in hoes’ dm, this blue check work, my percentage high
his broke ass in the way, let’s take a vote, i say this n*gga die
my side b*tch twenty*two, she can’t believe she f*cked a legend
when i’m bored as h*ll, i drive my foreign up and down the 7
i ain’t tryna wife you up, you only gettin’ p*n*s, mama
if you claimin’ you a k!ller, why you playin’? it’s time to cha*cha
had to cut my homie off, he a ho, he got his chain took
ain’t gon’ say no names, i sold a famous rapper a pair of fake buffs
i don’t give these hoes sh*t, even if i got it, i don’t got it
we ain’t speakin’ on no murders, weed ’em out, forget about it
puttin’ the ‘stendo on that benz, why you drivin’ that 550?
gotta do this on my own since no labels wanna eat with me
everything costs

- big quis

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