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wop - rmc mike lyrics

[intro]
wop, wop
yeah, n*gga
b*tch
(brian, you’re so crazy)
you know what the f*ck goin’ on, n*gga, free the ghetto, n*gga
boyz ent, n*gga
ayy

[verse]
ayy, cut the stock off the k and commit murder
granny said, “what’s that in your cup? it’s a bit purple”
my fat b*tch got a baby draco tucked in her girdle
every other day, we movin’ forward, jumpin’ over hurdles
glasses on, pants high as f*ck, i’m steve urkel
brodie, please don’t hit that lil’ b*tch raw, ’cause she fertile
i ain’t never took a bar, but we serve ’em
i’m quick to hang up on a b*tch, weak service
i’m on a money mission, brand*new plr, i’m actin’ dummy with it
if i can’t find a n*gga in three days, i hit his mommy with it
brodie got arrested with his dopе sack, he in the county with it
so much ice around my nеck, could take it off and probably drown me with it
i got a fake pint plug comin’ out of houston
hidin’ dog sh*t in the bathroom, can’t n0body use it
why you clutchin’ on your gun if ain’t n0body shootin’?
i would’ve k!lled a cop or two, man, rodney stupid
i know a b*tch with a throat deeper than devil’s lake
i’m finna re*rock my bars, keep the level straight
i’m a homeowner now, but we used to live on section 8
you wanna learn how to cook dope, go to section 8
i keep it solid every time, ain’t no testin’ me
the last n*gga tried to up his gun, may he rest in peace
n*ggas better come correct when they step to me
i had to walk a long mile just to catch and eat
i get paid to rap now, this sh*t a blessing, ain’t it?
i still be ridin’ through my hood, but it’s segregated
sendin’ n*ggas to the doc’, last week, they had eleven patients
i know he dead, i’m just waitin’ on the confirmation
now that i’m on top, i beat the block and make it hit harder
people callin’ me the wow factor like i’m vince carter
i just put some wax inside my ‘wood to make it hit harder
just bought a ghost glock, i’m finna slide in my b*tch charger
diamond link or a cuban link, it’s a big difference
sh*t, to me, it don’t matter, either or, long as your sh*t hittin’
meet a b*tch, f*ck the first night, then i dismiss her
she blew my socks off until the morning, no, i didn’t kiss her
i swear, these hoes quick to set a n*gga up if he got cheese
threw a switchy on my glock, now i gotta do is squeeze
five in the mornin’, whippin’ up the pies, i’m with freeze
we won the game by a landslide, it was a breeze

- rmc mike lyrics

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