[Intro: RMC Mike]
(Fuck the fire, we got grease)
Bitch
(His name's Pablo)

[Verse 1: RMC Mike]
Glock 40 with a drum in it, I bet I drop shit
Break my shit down in one minute, I'm a Glock smith
I need a Perc' bad, somebody please call Bob Smith
Seen Freaky make a hundred off them dice, he got an odd wrist
Bro got enough dog on him to make five pits
Throw his body in the lake for some bait, he a live fish
I can't lie, man, this bitch pussy stank, you can't hide fish
Made my fiend pay eleven hundred for five temps
Ten milli', hollow heads in it, you won't survive this
Girly said she got Meg knees, I made her ride dick
Sold dog eleven lines of Wock', I left five hit
I need a plug on them glass pints, somebody find Chris
Jump fresh as hell, then hop on a plane, I'ma fly rich
Thermal scope on my AR, it got a find switch
On my way to go perform in the D, we got like nine sticks
On the internet droppin' eight lines, this a live mix

[Interlude: RLSG BSmith]
Yeah, Perkies, ayy
[Verse 2: RLSG BSmith]
Every time you see me, guarantee I got my gun on me
I can't drink a pop unless it got a lil' four on it
All I drink is Wock', if you got Trish, then I don't want it
I be flexin' hard, flashin' money, I love showboatin'
She gave that pussy up for a Perc', she was ho-hoein'
You can get some thirties, but you gotta pay the high for 'em
I made more money at the gas station than the store owner
I really keep a whole lot of pills, I'm the Perky man
I can up the price to sixty dollars and they still gon' pay it
I be havin' problems stashin' money, y'all wouldn't understand
I drove to Atlanta with hundred pints in a minivan
If a n***a think he gon' rob me, he a silly man
I be rockin' Amiris, you wear Jordan Craigs from City, man
I don't pay attention to the hate, I just want the bands
N***a, how the fuck is you broke? You a grown man

[Interlude: Rio Da Yung OG]
Grown-ass, bum-ass n***a
Fuck is you broke?
How the fuck is you broke, my n***a?
Alright

[Verse 3: Rio Da Yung OG]
My Glock got expensive bullets in it, so it won't jam
Eight in a one-liter, thicker than toejam
Switch on the blick, when I shoot it, I slow dance
Ridin' 'round with a hundred-twenty racks, I'm a grown man
Trickin' off, just got some slow head from a blowhead
Walked in Upto crib with eighty racks in a store bag
Plug say he got a hundred 'bows, I want the whole bag
Just went in Somerset and walked out with twenty-four bags
Burberry, Gucci, Louis, and I went to Neiman Marcus
Ask Elise about me, I treat Saks Fifth like Target
We shut the party down soon as they started it
Four PLRs to turn his car to a garbage can