lirik lagu crunch time – rmc mike
[intro]
(smoky, smoke, smoke a n*gga up)
b*tch, haha, uh
(you in the mix with troy)
hah, hey
[verse]
louis runners on, ‘woods stuffed, catch a contanct
hundred*yard dash, that boy fast, he run a nine*flat
b*tch got a big p*ssy on her, look like a bobcat
it’s still money over b*tches, bring the m.o.b. back
cut the lights off, my ice brighter than the sunshine
hop on the beat and beat a rapper ass with these punchlines
one call, they pullin’ up with more sticks than a drumline
i got the it factor, i’m goin’ for the win when it’s crunch time
just hired me a bad b*tch to count the money up
drill time, sent three to his chest, hе need a tummy tuck
the first time i seen a hundred bands, i f*ckеd the money up
lil’ b*tch wasn’t tryna let me hit, it got her mommy f*cked
2020 rolls bright orange, look like a pumpkin
when you and your mans was sittin’ on the porch, i was hustlin’
take a dime, flip it to a quarter, what’s the subject?
you better up that b*tch and start shootin’ if you clutchin’
‘vette fast as h*ll, hit the gas and get lost in it
me and you cannot make the same dollar, we was taught different
four*five hit his cheekbone, now he talk different
always keep it real with myself, b*tch, i’m authentic
switch let off thirty fast as h*ll, change the magazine
bring me back to 2017, we was baggin’ trees
beat my b*tch ass if she ever say, “pass the weed”
plus she can’t ride d*ck that long, she got bad knees
hey, dc, bring that camera out, we finna shoot somethin’
added a cuban to the kit, now that b*tch worth like two hundred
whole team knocked that b*tch down, she be crew f*ckin’
i hate a n*gga say what he gon’ do, then don’t do nothin’
man, you n*ggas hoes
four pockets full of money, walkin’ pigeon*toed
you can get away with murder, you just did it wrong
my uncle still sellin’ dope off a minute phone, sh*t
presidential rollie on my wrist cost a light eighty
fell in love with a british b*tch and had a white baby
they love the way i come up with these bars, they like, “mike crazy”
she only like to f*ck when she drunk, you want a pint, baby?
ghetto boyz sh*t, free ri, he’ll be home quick
girlie young as h*ll, throwin’ ass like a grown b*tch
i was finna pound the p*ssy out, but the song switched
told neph’ to sit down, then he got caught with the wrong sh*t
i know it’s f*cked up, but it’s consequences, ayy
i love my b*tch ’cause she optimistic
i was sittin’ courtside, i coulda shot a piston
.308 big as h*ll, this b*tch’ll stop an engine
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