RMC Mike
Spice Masters
[Intro: KrispyLife Kidd]
KrispyLife, n***a, alright
RMC Mike in this shit
(Coronado on the beat)
Look

[Verse 1: KrispyLife Kidd]
Spent a lot on these Guccis, so I'ma keep on walkin'
Ran up some dog shit, so I'ma keep on joggin'
Gramz bust his mouth down, told him, "Keep on talkin'"
Hit his hood with some big shit, the car keep on stallin'
So much shit in the trunk, I'm scared to move the whip
The waitress drop loads on him, that's what you call a tip
Hold this bitch sideways, tryna shoot like I'm hittin' the whip
You ain't never been on nothin', boy, you's a bitch

[Verse 2: RMC Mike]
Baby chopper hit him up close, removed his hip
Thumbin' through a hundred K cash, removed the slips
Handyman workin' on the crib, keeps tools and shit
Blew a n***a car up, he wouldn't move his shit
Only fuck with n***as that's like me, keep it too real
I done spent so much on Michael J's, I need a shoe deal
Ghetto Boy, Peezy ain't thе only one up two mil'
Boss shit, a snap of my finger could get you killеd
[Verse 3: KrispyLife Kidd]
In that matte-black 'Cat and we slidin' on two wheels
Scared to leave my shit runnin' 'cause Baby E steal
Let me manage your career, bitch, I'm Dee Steele
In a drop 'Vette fuckin' this bitch up, I need a detail
She fucked four Bloods this week, I know she tired of slobs
Hit a n***a with that cha-cha, he ain't tryna slide
I surpassed a lot of n***as and now I'm idolized
Pop a n***a at Checkers, he done died for fries

[Verse 4: RMC Mike]
Took a new bitch to pound town, let the condom slide
I cannot let Tae see the E 'cause he bound to slide
Just scored a pint of Wockeisha, who down to fly?
I'm on my way to some pape', who down to ride?
N***a, how the fuck is you real, rockin' fake shit?
It's buttons everywhere in this bitch like a spaceship
I'm pullin' up on any type of pape' if it make sense
You want the red pill or the blue pill? This The Matrix
Hellcat doin' one-sixty in the fast lane
Stayed down and waited my turn until the bag came
You had to use the whole thirty clip, boy, you got bad aim
I promise I'ma make it to the top, that's on my last name
Ghetto Boyz times IUR, we some problems
I'm droppin' so much heat inside this bitch, I broke the module
Doggy bone tried to flex in our hood and we robbed him
Real lean head, been takin' sips of Act' since a toddler
[Verse 5: KrispyLife Kidd]
Wet a n***a jean fit until he out of denim
N***a play with you in any way, then you gotta kill him
Bitch, if you flirt with my n***a, then you gotta hit him
In LA, just fucked a bitch that's from South Central
And I don't know if she Blood or Crip
Money got me walkin' funny, I got a dub a hip
Hit him twenty-seven times right above his hips
Amiris, I bought 'em too tight, only a dub can fit
In Seattle hittin' stores with my scammer bitch
Seen the flash on the Glock, he thought a camera flicked
Clip full of cancer patients, try to cancel this
You could keep that Wockhardt, I'm a fan of Trish
Just got my dick sucked on some random shit
On the 'Gram lookin' through my likes, which fan to hit?
Oyster or the Jubilee, which band to pick?
I brought my shooter out today, I said, "Stay in the pit"