Talk Crazy Pt. 2

Lyrics

[Intro: RMC Mike] (Fuck the fire, we got grease) (It's a Wayne beat) Bitch (RJ always trippin', man, RJ always trippin', man) Hah, Ghetto Boy shit, nigga Hey (His name's Pablo) [Verse: RMC Mike] We don't speak on opps no more 'cause they broke I'm spitting straight drop, you could cook it on the stove I'd rather make a play than have some pussy on the floor I'm laid back, but I can act Boosie on a ho I'm on the edge, if a nigga push me, I'm on go Will this rap shit take me out the hood? I don't know I done touched a hundred K, but back then, I was broke Lil' nasty bitch say she got her friend on the floor F-color VS1 diamonds what I rock I just scored a pint of Techy, RJ, find me a pop I just kicked the door down, I had to find me a spot I'll love a bitch forever if she buy me a Glock I'm riding Grand Cherokee with the rose gold trimming I'm finna slide down on a pack of hoes to go fishing I don't give a fuck about what you done made, that's your business Type of nigga buy a brand-new car just to smoke in it Ever since I threw these diamonds in my mouth, the hoes trippin' Do the speed limit, ride your own lane, the road different Break a bitch for everything she got, no pimping Run in the crib, kill everything, left no witness Six chains on right now and I ain't signed to shit I just might be single forever, can't find a bitch You niggas need to quit sellin' dope if you can't buy a brick 'Cause I done made a hundred off the rap, nigga, times six Forty-eight thousand on the watch, that's time spent My brother tapped me in to the rap, nigga, times in Back in '08, was gettin' high with my blind friend I'm not takin' one for the team, I want the fine friend I'm fuckin' her like I ain't have no pussy in a week I hang with real shooters, they'll come and cook you for some cheese You want me to come and rap, well, nigga, book me for some cheese A lot of ice around my neck, I'm thinkin' seventeen degrees Get the load in, break it down, then move it Niggas ain't got no hustle, when it come to money, they be clueless I know a nigga up a hundred million dollars, think he Jewish I'm finna rewrap my old-school, make it blue-ish Pockets full with hundreds on me, old ones and the new ones Bitch cut into me like, "I wanna fuck, I'm a cougar" I said, "I'm young, but I can teach you some new shit, I'm a tutor" You would never know I had the blick, 'cause I'm the shooter Stripper bitch wanna fuck me bad, I'ma spin her Shit, I got a lotta pape' with no kids, I'm a winner Gettin' money make me feel full, fuck a dinner Lord forgive me for that shit back in the past, I'm a sinner Still'll hop out and get on niggas' ass, no pretender Hit the strip club, made that bitch snow, no December I helped my city get back on the map, that's no [?] I'm still praying every day I don't die or go to prison