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lirik lagu mean good – rmc mike

[verse]
hey, them lemonade n*ggas that don’t mean good
people only f*ckin’ with your baby if it seem good
f*ck it, i just bought the baby choppa with the greenwood
rap elite, we runnin’ up some pape’, you know my team good
trappin’ was the first thing that paid me, ask the block about it
the only reason you don’t speak on it is ’cause you not around
n*gga bring a problem to my plate, i’ma out*of*bound it
you gotta dig deep to find yourself, you just never found it
we started off buyin’ grams, now we sharin’ ounces
now we buyin’ back the whole block, we can share houses
went and got it on my own, i never shared couches
never deep into my feelings, i don’t care about it
i got [?][0:39], sh*t get deep
left his body in the ocean, lefty floatin’ by his feet
b*tch, we came up from the mud, now it’s solid concrete
i wouldn’t try that, see these fifty people that’s behind me?
and they don’t play about your baby, ’cause i’m solid as it come
i tell my baby d*boy, “pull it up, this the one”
she ask me, “what’s that wrapped around your pocket?” it’s a gun
f*ck a ten*ball up just in the mall, sh*t be fun
when you move around, you gotta watch your back, ’cause it’s vultures out
i gotta cut back on drinkin’ lean, took the sober out
buy a brand new [?][1:03], same day, pull the motor out
no gps on the road, ’cause i know the route
i’m just patiently waitin’ on that day ’til we control the south
she caught me off a percocet, i blew her shoulders out
i could never ever sell my soul for no amount
i finally got my money up and now i’m showin’ off
n*ggas hate the way that we control the city
i ain’t even gotta post it, n*ggas know it’s fifty
don’t break my heart, that’s gon’ bring out the soldier in me
never complainin’ ’bout no pape’, ’cause i know it’s plenty
a lot of scars from the past, still, i stand alone
every day i wake up, i just pray that i make it home
unc still sellin’ dope, he into breakin’ stones
if i tell you how i feel, just don’t take it wrong
i don’t f*ck with a lot, emotions run deep
tryan escape from my past, sh*t be hauntin’ me
hundred dollars for my eighthies, boy, your blunt cheap
f*cked her off for thirty minutes straight, now she drunk sleep
i might disappear a lot, but i just like my time alone
i just pull up, collect my backend, then i’m gone
the real weed come from california, sh*t be strong
if you ain’t got ‘nough pape’ to spend with me, leave me alone
[outro]
nah, for real

- rmc mike

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