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letra de the biggest mob - rx papi

[intro]
huh?
on god
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[verse: rx papi, rsc chapo]
it ain’t no backdoor on the house, n-gga, what the f-ck you doin’?
i’m paranoid, you better tell your boy “chill” ‘fore i get to shooting
situations turn bad ’cause n-ggas don’t know how to play it
brodie d-mn near blew the whole slab, he ain’t know how to [?] it
f-ck [?], i seen my opp broad-day and i’ma face him
yeah, this rap sh-t kinda cool
i act like i ain’t got nun’ to lose
we spin they block when there’s nothin’ to do
i spent a rap deal on my jewelry
technically i’m not signed, but on your head i put five
jump out the bushes with the fire (fah, fah, fah, fah)
this n-gga think he got nine lives
auntie dance like mary j. blige
b-tch, i got dope on the plate
i put the pole to your face
cuz’nem woulda came home, but you told on the case
i reloaded my drac’, now i couldn’t throw it away
they say i got a chance with rap and i shouldn’t throw it away
i stand on business with my n-ggas, don’t care what a n-gga say
it be a cold day in h-ll before i let ’em get away
it’s n-ggas that i still wanna k!ll back from seventh grade
lil [?] get you gone, all he need is a picture and your name
they like “papi talkin’ crazy, it’s probably ’cause the n-gga’s crazy”
that boy cut throat and he a taker
police behind us, gotta shake ’em
all i know is work the dope
i got fifty dollar grams
scratch from the side of the bowl and serve hit to my mans
i got the drac’, don’t give a d-mn
“where you at?” still sellin’ grams
take this picture, i’m your fan
coke, lean and we selling tan
my white junkie like “chapo, i love you”
d-mn right, b-tch, i just wanna f-ck you
make it rain with the carbon
they like “chapo, what you chargin’?”
a hundred a gram, two thousand a feat
her head ain’t good but the p-ssy elite
these louis forces, don’t step on my feet
n-gga, nah, for real
i can’t go out of town, i got money on the streets
ridin’ ’round with your b-tch, we just had her on her knees
she like “chapo, you a demon”
see a opp, watch, we get to squeezin’
i can’t trust him ‘less he crip
you buy this bag, that’s what you get
wrist dancin’, milly rockin’
he big as h-ll, but the drac’ stopped him
i’m down the way, i’m glock shoppin’
it’s more cut, i still lock it
i f-ck her good off the roxi’
i wish you would, we gon’ pop you
three cubans, i’m super c-cky
mob boss like i’m john gotti

- rx papi

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