Spice Masters

Lyrics

[Intro: KrispyLife Kidd] KrispyLife, nigga, alright RMC Mike in this shit (Coronado on the beat) Look [Verse 1: KrispyLife Kidd] Spent a lot on these Guccis, so I'ma keep on walkin' Ran up some dog shit, so I'ma keep on joggin' Gramz bust his mouth down, told him, "Keep on talkin'" Hit his hood with some big shit, the car keep on stallin' So much shit in the trunk, I'm scared to move the whip The waitress drop loads on him, that's what you call a tip Hold this bitch sideways, tryna shoot like I'm hittin' the whip You ain't never been on nothin', boy, you's a bitch [Verse 2: RMC Mike] Baby chopper hit him up close, removed his hip Thumbin' through a hundred K cash, removed the slips Handyman workin' on the crib, keeps tools and shit Blew a nigga car up, he wouldn't move his shit Only fuck with niggas that's like me, keep it too real I done spent so much on Michael J's, I need a shoe deal Ghetto Boy, Peezy ain't thе only one up two mil' Boss shit, a snap of my finger could get you killеd [Verse 3: KrispyLife Kidd] In that matte-black 'Cat and we slidin' on two wheels Scared to leave my shit runnin' 'cause Baby E steal Let me manage your career, bitch, I'm Dee Steele In a drop 'Vette fuckin' this bitch up, I need a detail She fucked four Bloods this week, I know she tired of slobs Hit a nigga with that cha-cha, he ain't tryna slide I surpassed a lot of niggas and now I'm idolized Pop a nigga at Checkers, he done died for fries [Verse 4: RMC Mike] Took a new bitch to pound town, let the condom slide I cannot let Tae see the E 'cause he bound to slide Just scored a pint of Wockeisha, who down to fly? I'm on my way to some pape', who down to ride? Nigga, how the fuck is you real, rockin' fake shit? It's buttons everywhere in this bitch like a spaceship I'm pullin' up on any type of pape' if it make sense You want the red pill or the blue pill? This The Matrix Hellcat doin' one-sixty in the fast lane Stayed down and waited my turn until the bag came You had to use the whole thirty clip, boy, you got bad aim I promise I'ma make it to the top, that's on my last name Ghetto Boyz times IUR, we some problems I'm droppin' so much heat inside this bitch, I broke the module Doggy bone tried to flex in our hood and we robbed him Real lean head, been takin' sips of Act' since a toddler [Verse 5: KrispyLife Kidd] Wet a nigga jean fit until he out of denim Nigga play with you in any way, then you gotta kill him Bitch, if you flirt with my nigga, then you gotta hit him In LA, just fucked a bitch that's from South Central And I don't know if she Blood or Crip Money got me walkin' funny, I got a dub a hip Hit him twenty-seven times right above his hips Amiris, I bought 'em too tight, only a dub can fit In Seattle hittin' stores with my scammer bitch Seen the flash on the Glock, he thought a camera flicked Clip full of cancer patients, try to cancel this You could keep that Wockhardt, I'm a fan of Trish Just got my dick sucked on some random shit On the 'Gram lookin' through my likes, which fan to hit? Oyster or the Jubilee, which band to pick? I brought my shooter out today, I said, "Stay in the pit"