MixMatch lyrics

[Intro: RMC Mike]
(It's a Wayne beat)
Phew, phew, phew (Elijah)
Yeah, look

[Verse 1: RMC Mike]
A million dollars cash, that's my monthly go
You can catch me in Milwaukee tryna dump a load
We put our faith in dog and he up and told
My brother Reese caught a body, sent him up the road
Hmm, he knocked the 9 down
Me and Fox gon' kill somethin' if we slide down
We caught him lackin' at the bar, tryna buy a round
She tried to offer me her pus*y, turned the vibe down
Hmm, I'm on some pape' sh*t, n*ggas ain't sh*t
Hmm, the 308s hit, tryna break sh*t
Tryna get his faced lift from a fake brick
Ain't no way, b*tch, 'cause we take sh*t
Lil' Bibi poured a pop, like, "Here, taste this"
Yes, I'm a rapper now, but still take hits
I'm tryna take over the game, on my Drake sh*t
I'm not finna argue with nobody, I just paint sh*t
Bulletproof lane switch, on some gang sh*t
I'm on some Wayne sh*t, b*tch, we ain't missed
He poured a four, nine piece of that cake mix
We gave his ass nine weeks and he ain't make sh*t (Mm-mm)
[Verse 2: Fox BD]
Rio told y'all already we make trees flip (Mm)
Quagen, Wock', Tris, and— mm, I need somethin' different now
Quagen, Wock', Tris and Act', this a different mix
Lil' bro got caught without that button, this a different switch
Hell yeah, I'ma bond him out 'cause he won't snitch
Went from eatin' bologna sandwiches to calamari
Have you ever seen a young n*gga bought the Ferrari?
Million-dollar n*gga, but he ain't Q with a tar
Ever case I beat, I got a bond with my lawyer
You wanted to be a cop, n*gga, might as well correct petty
I do my thing with the 'bow, but bro f*ck with the fetty
n*gga, we got plenty sources, if you want 'em, we mail it
Don't turn my name down to get the pus*y, n*ggas messy

[Verse 3: RMC Mike]
We left his brains in the kitchen, lookin' like spaghetti
Unc' gon' make a million dollars playin' with the fetty
I got a body on the floor, hit me when you ready
Fox poured up a six, let's indulge in it
Shoot a video with this K, look like Cole Bennet
Hmm, drop a pint in the pot, dropped my soul in it
Yeah, I'm a fat n*gga, but I'm long-winded
Hmm, how I rap for days
Don't ask me how my day went, n*gga, ask the K
Bring me thirteen thousand you wanna rap today
I just got new drank plug out of Santa Fe
We in Cali' with it
Can't catch that n*gga lackin', hit his daddy with it
Whole house filled the bag, call it family business (Hmm)
Doin' donuts in the striker, they won't catch me in it
I'm finna dash the b*tch
BD said, "After your done with her, bro, pass the b*tch" (Hmm)
I can't tax him for this sh*t, I let him have a brick
Turnt now, I remember days not havin' sh*t
Rush hour traffic, gettin' head from the baddest b*tch
I'm not average
I can tell you what I want, I'm not askin' it
I'm demandin' it, b*tch