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ghetto assassin - rmc mike lyrics

[intro]
cg, you made this one?
that’s my bike, punk
ah ha ha, somebody in trouble
that’s what it sound like, right?
b*tch

[verse]
real money counters count the money, it can’t count me
y’all see i got this sh*t up out the mud, why would you doubt me?
we came from thuggin’ hard on mackin road, now we on south beach
my mindset is set to do whatever life allow me
i’m the undisputed heavyweight
talkin’ to my parlay, but i’m not desi banks
all this water on my chest would make a levee break
i’m finna beat pop’s ass, i think he seventy*eight
pow, he caught one to the head, now that’s a brain check
i swear to god, i love a b*tch who like the same s*x
you gotta knock the boss off first, he the main threat
you out here trickin’ with these b*tches, boy, that’s paid s*x
d*boy pulled up on a n*gga in the same ‘vette
i’m finna take mines back
it got the switchy thing on the back, that’s why it spray like that
she lookin’ like she got her body sculpted, why she shaped like that?
b*tch called me talkin’ ’bout she pregnant, why you play like that?
’cause i’ll smack a b*tch
don’t let her in ’cause i’m a better man when i’m off actavis
thirteen thousand for some paint, sh*t immaculate
ma, we on our way to the top, sh*t miraculous
cut a b*tch short, her p*ssy drier than a cactus
first two years, i made three hundred thou’ off rappin’
they like, “mike, we know you got it for the low, then why you taxin’?”
gotta keep my b*tch down on the low, ’cause she an actress
plus, she got a big coochie on her, too, look like patrick
whack a n*gga while i’m gettin’ high as h*ll, ghetto assassin
if i can’t have you, b*tch, you gon’ die, fatal attraction
caught her stealin’ out my pack and left her face on a mattress
i got big dreams to make it to the top, i was the chosen one
i’m the tiger woods of my neighborhood, put a hole in one
i knew he wasn’t gon’ pop sh*t, i could tell how he hold his gun
i drop back and let the chop clap, this the longest one
f*ck that, let off a whole hunnid, he can’t bust back
bro in the police cruiser with some dope under his n*ts*ck
it’s quick as h*ll tryna lean alone, i want my crutch back
i’m sick of n*ggas talkin’ money sh*t but they can’t up that
n*ggas broke as f*ck, i got a kel*tec
this b*tch hold fifty, press on the back and it’ll open up
you like to f*ck b*tches when they drunk, let her sober up
blew the dust off the tommy gun, this b*tch old as f*ck
like in ’09? no, i don’t want no head, i want a bl*wj*b
we makin’ sure the doors locked, check the doorkn*b
b*tch, we shut off like a rocket within no time
now it’s showtime

- rmc mike lyrics

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