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make sense - rmc mike lyrics

[intro]
(ooh, sleepyzak)

[verse 1]
we ain’t need n0body, did this sh*t on our own
i got a glock hold thirty*two, call that b*tch karl malone
distrokid saved my life, i made a hundred off a phone
made a play to take over the rap game and now we on
made my own side, 810 n*ggas stand up
this a robbery, everybody put they hands up
i’m in the whip with a ten, i just rubber band dubs
don’t you hate when you know that n*gga soft, but playin’ tough?
[interlude]
d*mn
just be yourself, n*gga
i don’t get it
it’s not hard

[verse 2]
you can be what you want, just grind hard and dedicate it
right now i’m sippin’ on a cream soda slightly medicated
f*ck what you doin’ right now, it’s all about the elevation
i’m an example of how you get on with no education
okay, this music in my blood, get on the beat and levitate it
i wanna be right here with you and i don’t see no better places
i miss my family all the time, i don’t see no better faces
what i’m doin’ to change our life from this letter that i’m chasin’, an m, b*tch
you gotta ride with your glock, this b*tch sin city
i hope i end it all with the same n*ggas begin with me
the salewoman like me, got my dior kicks for ten*fifty
don’t show up to my hood unannounced, ’cause it can get risky
now my steak filleted, but it started off with ramen noodles
five*sevens rippin’ through his chest, rearranging fluids
my brother itching for a body, you can’t tame a shooter
unc’ still trippin’ off the white, he a cocaine user
i told him stop that sh*t
if i catch another gram around this b*tch, i’ma rock your sh*t
skinny jeans, so the knot won’t fit
i made cheese off a beef with a sh*ll, on my taco sh*t
i’m in oakland with a barbie on my side
out shoppin’ for a whip like, “bae, what car we finna drive?”
i love the fact your p*ssy wet, but we argue all the time
we chasin’ moneybagg yos with an ari on the side
she a get*money b*tch, she got a bust patek
anything that she want, i guess she must have it
plr ain’t got no kick, it can be bust backwards
i had to leave her on the plane, she had too much baggage
h*llcat need new tires, do too much stabbin’
i made a hundred last week for you bums askin’
oh, he can run? bet that drac’ make him run faster
she callin’ thirty*seven times, still unanswered
she a freak, we made a p*rno on her son camera
rest in peace uncle pete, he died of lung cancer
we tryna make another hit, but do the song matter?
really a great, but to the corporate, i’m a dumb rapper
b*tch

- rmc mike lyrics

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