[Intro: RMC Mike & 3200 Tre]
Bitch
Real Ghetto Boy, I been breaking the rules
Ayy, ayy


[Verse 1: 3200 Tre]
I feel like a real Ghetto Boy, I been breaking rules
I should've been a Ghetto Boy, I done made some with too
Hell yeah, I got a bag, I be shaking it too
I know I said I want it for 25, you can take it for 2 (MKMentality, baby)
PMP, BlocBoy JB, every day we gon' shoot
Don't question if I'm up dog shit, bitch, I stay with some poop
I made something out of nothing, bitch, I'm greater than you
I ain't never had these many blues, dawg thank for the crues
Hm, no, I'm not cooking steak if I'm making some food
I'm whipping the type of shit, make you faint if you use
Doubt a undеrstatement, bitch, you couldn't walk a day in my shoes
Seen a lotta shit with thеse eyes, think I played in some movies
Hm, if you watched me, you'd understand me
Just gave a tweak a G and made him speak, he think he won a Grammy
My phone rung, think it was a score, she wanted something sandy
Hold on, forgot about you, let me call my uncle Tammy (MKMentality, baby)
Hm, never mind, that's my fucking auntie
You n***as broke with no life, you'd probably jump a baby
I'm not a weed man, don't call for no fucking eighties
But if you buy a quad, I can't say no, I got a couple babies
Hm, yeah, I'm getting frustrated
Peezy say he say he didn't know about me, Mike update him
Ask about the price and not cop' it, bitch, you pump faking
Hm, bitch,I'm the number one devil, I'll punch Satan
[Verse 2: RMC Mike]
Lick a shot off, he tryna run, I got a drum waiting
Pour Morton on my bitch coochie for that one flavor
Left Wokisha for a couple months, she was unfaithful
17 grams in the 'Wood, got the blunt breaking
Try to move, baow, he hit once, I wasn't pump faking
7 racks for a bag, I took it back, the bitch is ungrateful
The shit you smoking cost 25 a eighth, I know your lungs hate you
How you balling and don't even own a crib? Boy, you unstable
Alright, let's get back to business
Rose Gold feature, Peezy said he finna wrap the Bentley
I make a living off talking shit now, we used to trap for [?]
How the fuck is you the boat man, when your bag too skinny?
Ghetto Boy shit, fuck a label, we gon' stay indie
Bae, how many pills fit in your coochie? She said, "850"
My nephew hardhead, he riding with Glocks while his case pending
Spin a block, let off 16 shots and left 8 victims
Got my first gun at 12, now I'm a genius with the pistol
20 racks in dubs, fuck them skinny jeans, I couldn't fit 'em
Bitch talk too much, so I stuffed my wee-wee in her dental
Half colored stones all in my pendent, we official