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lirik lagu thoughts – rmc mike

[intro]
yeah, b*tch
ghetto boyz sh*t n*gga

[verse]
ridin’ in a sp*ceship lookin’ for a bad b*tch
paid all cash for this b*tch so i can crash it
i be talkin’ crazy on the beat so i don’t adlib
b*tch kinda ugly in the face but her ass big
yeah her bag big
i made five hundred thousand at my last crib
i put a tag on his toe, that mean he tagged in
i can’t pull in nowhere, i got a bag in
this my last ten
big bag on alert, i gotta fly to it
fans said they f*ckin’ with the music, they get high to it
deuce deuce hit him in his lung got him ha*chooin’
back and forth from flint to la, i’m bringing za through it
hey juice, where the f*ck the perc 30s? ’cause i need three
he came 580, forgi’s on it with the green seats
i fеined out, i just poured some wock’ in thе green tea
good d*ck made her cash out, b*tch, celine me
another bag on the floor, i think a birkin
do a drill in maybach, drop the curtains
you out here doin’ sh*t for no reason, what’s the purpose?
he caught a body then got life, was it worth it?
let me take another sip of this act’, got me burpin’
on the e*way with a hunnid’ pack it got me nervous
kick the driver out, the n*gga kept swervin’
plr loud as h*ll, i know they heard it
last year i made two*hundred*fifty times two, n*gga
walk in the crib at 2:00 a.m. got my boo trippin’
lamborghini svj that b*tch got two engines
i done beat a n*gga ass and now he cool with me
walk a n*gga down, shoot first and ask questions later
my new b*tch a light bright redskin potatoes
n*gga tryna buy some weed from me, got ten flavors
i was f*ckin’ b*tches twenty nine as a tenth rader
young n*gga f*ckin’ grown b*tches plus i had a whip
mama i’m a big rapper now, did you imagine this?
i swear to god the ‘wood hit harder with a plastic tip
i brought all the food to the table, bro pass the grits
b*tch, you broke and your baby daddy broke too
he need to sit his ass down, been sellin’ work since ’02
ten milli’ turn a n*gga head into some tofu
sloppy head got my drawls wet, i let it soak through
d*mn, i’m a freaky n*gga and i’m honest
sh*t, i’m flyer than the b*tch, i’m the pilot
boy, you smokin’ bullsh*t, that’s not exotic
okay, i made some dogsh*t off hydroponics
aight, now i’m on the fast route, b*tches gettin’ passed out
ap is a glass house, d*mn i almost crashed out
n*ggas gettin’ packed out, mama gettin’ cashed out
a million is in*grab now
lost his life, guess he cr*pped out
sh*t was so obvious
number one sh*t talker i don’t need a audience
dum n dumbber 3 went top five, we was callin’ it
b*tch p*ssy loose than a b*tch, i just fall in it
that’s a d*mn shame
i spent a brick and a half on my d*mn chain
police ever get me in the room, won’t say a d*mn thing
aggressively hittin’ her from the side, broken hamstring
you got me dancin’ in the p*ssy, do yo’ d*mn thing
you with them or you with us? n*gga, pick a side
rest in piece uncle jb, he got sick and died
i’ll rob a n*gga for his car before i hitch a ride
we can really make it to the top, you gotta visualize
free the ghetto, when they come home you boys f*cked
spent three*fifty on a lamborghini, it’s a truck
i take a five, built her body up now she a buck
we done sent so many opps to the sky, now they stuck

- rmc mike

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