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letra de listen up - rmc mike

[verse 1: rmc mike]
e, i think i’m missin’ somethin’
all they gotta do is hear that “b-tch,” don’t need no introduction
me and ri dropped six lines a piece, that mean we split a dozen
we was actin’ bad all last week, tryna hit two cousins

[verse 2: grindhard e]
they ain’t see me in a while, they know i’m up to somethin’
hundred blue strips, so sticky, it don’t look like nothin’
blowin’ white runtz, for a quarter, i want two hundred
pour heavy in a lil’ pop, it cost me two hundred
[verse 3: rmc mike]
big bro just cooked a brick and he ain’t lose nothin’
matter fact, i think he hit it with a two-somethin’
caught an opp slippin’, i beat his ass then poured my juice on him
seen his brother drop thirty shots, i’m actin’ loose on him

[verse 4: grindhard e]
mike, a lot of n-ggas talk tough, but ain’t gon’ do nothin’
they talkin’ ’bout they got a lot of guns, but ain’t gon’ shoot nothin’
unc’ gon’ tip, before a hit, he gotta oot somethin’
my fiend sayin’ he don’t sniff no more, he gotta shoot it up

[verse 5: rmc mike]
my white boy comin’ from up north, he in a dually truck
made a fifty play in front the states and i was toolied up
i be actin’ stiff with all my hoes, they like, “mike, loosen up”
bro how fast, and he just drunk a four out of medusa cup
i just hit a b-tch with no ass, but she was cute as f-ck
bro hit the soft whistle and then blew it up
i just chased the henny with the drank and then i threw it up
gave my fiend a pack of bull sh-t, his arm blew up

[verse 6: grindhard e]
i just made a play for some food, ain’t talkin’ ’bout no lunch
i just made a k!llin’ on the road, ain’t talkin’ ’bout no plunge
only f-cked the lil’ b-tch once, now she talkin’ ’bout love
only f-cked with the dog once, but i touched me a dub
you might catch me in the trap, i don’t f-ck with the clubs
unless promoters pay that cash, it’ll cost us to come
finessed that lil’ b-tch out some p-ssy, it cost me to cum
[?][1:23] my fiend out, his whole chicken only cost me some crumbs
[verse 7: rmc mike]
i bought my b-tch a new bag, she bought me a gun
my opp mama was a fiend, she brought me her son
i just beat the back off your b-tch, she tossed me [?][1:34]
i just took the back off this b-tch and drop a hundred one

[verse 8: grindhard e]
fifty-five-inch curved tv, ain’t even mount it up
just got head from your b-tch, then i tossed her a blunt
rollin’ all these ‘woods with this cookie, gon’ cost me a lung
bein’ stiff with all the dope fiends gon’ make me a hun’

- rmc mike

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