lirik lagu intro (ghetto assassin) – rmc mike
[intro]
(enrgy made this one)
hoo
hahahaha, yeah
this my type of sh*t right here, done got out
guess what? ayy
[verse]
this a thirty pointer diamond link
i don’t need gps for me to find the street
i’ll rap all night, you just gotta find the beats
bullets in the bmg look like flyin’ trees
ain’t no “i” in “team”
take a two*liter, fill that b*tch with all trishiana
n*gga, it don’t matter how she look, you still gon’ get behind her
double rice when we at benihanas
don’t go to war with nan’ one of us, ’cause we got plenty choppers
we got the gas to the floor, you hear the hemi poppin’
i got a pint from nephew, he charged me sixty dollars
forty*seven extra clips with me, could shoot for sixty hours
i can’t f*ck her no more, she got p*ssy power
went to f*ck another b*tch and didn’t take a shower
ooh, that’s nasty, ain’t it?
and she ate the whole f*ckin’ thing when i ej*cul*ted
daughter out here gettin’ beat down, i know her daddy hate it
type of n*gga i ain’t get sh*t for my graduation
i just looked up, thanked god, and be glad i made it
hold on, let me run and get my gun out of [?][0:50] bas*m*nt
b*tch, i’m top three in this game, let me grab the rankings
sh*t, b*tch said her p*ssy good, i’m tryna see somethin’
she let me f*ck her in the car, i gave her three hundred
leave the house tonight, knock on the door like did i leave somethin’?
f*ck around and mop the whole house, i’m tryna clean somethin’
i got the devil on my shoulder, i can’t get him off
five*thousand*dollar ‘fits, i got plenty— ahh
five*thousand*dollar ‘fits, i got plenty sauce
i got more drip in my closet than what your hemi cost
d*mn, i need some act’ bad
threw a switchy on my glock to make it act bad
ridin’ with a hundred thousand dollars in a black bag
when you makin’ money every day, you can stack fast
and that’s some real sh*t
i got a baby draco with a k!llswitch
i just popped a vicodin, i wanna feel sh*t
i’ll k!ll you ’bout my b*tch, i’m not will smith
on some real sh*t
i just found some hi*tech, this an old eight
big motor in the oldie make the road shake
i like to spice things up, bring me some old bay
she sucked the blood out my d*ck, i’m like, “woah, bae”
you gotta slow it down
you better hope you ain’t catchin’ nothin’ out here hoein’ ’round
pull up to your granny crib— i’m, ayy
pull up to your granny— hold on, naw
pull up to your granny crib, i’m finna blow it down
police got behind me, hit the corner, throw it out
stompin’ in the trx when it’s snowin’ out
you’d get there a lil’ faster when you know the route
sh*t, and i know the route
street ballin’ on these n*ggas, they can’t check up
two hundred thousand really ain’t sh*t, i got my check up
twenty thousand on me, blow a ten, put the rest up
b*tch, you suck d*ck? she like, “mike, you got me messed up”
haha
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