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lirik lagu new mission – rmc mike

[intro]
sh*t
yeah
ghetto boyz sh*t, n*gga, you know what the f*ck goin’ on
huh, huh, yeah
alright
yeah
alright
look
look, ayy

[verse]
it’s an eight in my pop ’cause i love to drink
cheat on my b*tch and then i text her phone, “i love you still”
please hand me a glass pint out the cupboardry
i’m worth a half a million dollars, no touching mee
.40 cal’ bite a n*gga face like a wild beast
f*ck a h*llcat, we finna go slide out a crown vic’
supercharger on that 6.0, you hear a loud hiss
baby, i can’t make love to you, i pound sh*t
water on my neck, water on my wrist
sh*t, water on my mama, water on my b*tch
ironically, i got it off of talkin’ sh*t
my cousin can’t read for sh*t, but he can off a brick
b*tch, it’s go time, press the gas, ain’t no lookin’ back
b*tch, it’s showtime, v12, ain’t no catchin’ that
threw a bullеt in his tire, n*gga thought he caught a flat
if i hang up on you, b*tch, you know it ain’t no callin’ back
on the highway, mе and shrooms finna take a trip
them n*ggas ain’t touch what i spent, i know they sick
ran the money up all in they face, now they p*ssed
try me, it’s gon’ be a free body, i’m legit
you can feel it in your soul when that fifty bustin’
if i give you good d*ck, you gotta tip me somethin’
i done looked out for a lot of n*ggas that ain’t give me nothin’
ghetto assassin, slide down a n*gga chimney bustin’
score an eight of morton grove, no, it’s not for sale
i know the really baby goat, you is not latrell
boy, i see it in your eyes, you was ’bout to tell
i’ma keep steppin’ on they necks ’til bro get out of jail
even then, you know the motto, all gas, no breaks
the work gettin’ shipped here, all slaps, no shake
you want the best weed, take your ass to the bay
could’ve got it all, but only brought a half for the day
came out the house on me all blues, it’s a pinky now
dude was tryna flex in the bar and i sent him shots
automatic’s kind of hard to handle, but the semi’s not
white b*tches off of adderall screamin’, “give me c*ck”
bunch of rude b*tches
you can go to benihana, i’ma ruth’s chris it
i’ll beat a n*gga ass until his shoes missing
you gotta want to f*ck me, i can’t choose b*tches
i’m on a new mission
late for work, d*mn, that bag came ’bout an hour early
i knew she was gon’ give that p*ssy up, i took a shower early
i took the boy on a trip, who invited girly?
buckshots left a lot of holes in him like he rocked a jersey
b*tch hit my line like, “what it’s hittin’ for?”
i ain’t tryna fall in love, i just hit and go
fancy, big as h*ll, she got a pretty coat
hold on, wait, i was talkin’ ’bout my dog if you didn’t know
i just drunk a three raw, now my vision blurred
tryna donut the h*llcat, i done hit the curb
i can make a million out your house if the kitchen work
call the plug, tell them, “batter up,” he need pitching work

- rmc mike

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