Wit’ Ease lyrics

[Intro]
Hmm, hmm
Hmm (b*tch)
Yeah (Southside sh*t)

[Verse]
Let your b*tch hit my blunt once, I bet I hit with ease
Let your b*tch hit my cup twice, I bet she hit her knees
Baby, when you come to suck di*k, bring energy
You be smoking on doo-doo brown, I got Christmas trees
Yeah
When they bring up the Flint G.O.A.T.s, they gotta mention me
Two FNs hanging on me daily, I'm Pistol Pete
Make your b*tch walk twenty miles, she got different feet
She can suck di*k for two hours, she got different teeth
Let me start the Hellcat up, it got a differеnt key
A n*gga called for a nine-piеce, it was missing three
I sold a n*gga cut red and I sipped the green
Okay, I love the rap game, but I miss the fiends
Diesel pulled up with a pint, it was crystal clean
I'm doing everything you n*ggas can't, I'm a living dream
Did I hit that lil' b*tch? Let me sit and think
She wanna suck a n*gga balls, I wanna sip and drink
I think this b*tch a crackhead, she got missing teeth
I just f*cked this b*tch mama, she the biggest freak
She just chased a shot of c*m with the lemon squeeze
Damn, she the real G.O.A.T.
They say the b*tch was a ho and it for real show
I told her f*ck me like she playin' with a dildo
Told Southside to make a beat for me and Lil Boat
Jay spent twenty on his mouth, let that grill show
He said he had a six, that n*gga pulled up with a sealed four
When a n*gga take them RPs, I be in kill mode
I just beat my cameraman ass 'cause he filmed wrong
Peezy came to Flint and he dug up two gemstones
Steppin' on a brick in some Timbs like I'm Jim Jones
Brodie popped two opps in one day near the kill zone
He a bright motherf*cker, thought I told you that
You lied, you ain't get that sh*t from me, I ain't sold you that
n*gga said them Ghetto Boyz broke, who told you that?
'Cause I'll get a n*gga mama wrapped up in grocery bags
You can't keep talking 'bout that money, n*gga, show me that
I ain't take that boy pape,' he owed me that
If it come down to it, I'll pop you where the police at
Every time I see the opp out, he like, "I know he strapped"
Huh, and boy, you damn right
Brodie said the weed make him hot, cut on the fan twice
I been on some bullsh*t lately, I punched a fan twice
Lean drinker, I just poured a six in a canned Sprite
When you rollin' up real weed, use your hands light
'Cause I remember buyin' weed, like, "Damn, this a gram, right?"
Unc said the soft was a two, but the tan nice
Tryna kill me is like stepping on a landmine
Ah, pure suicide
I'ma let the fin go fast when it's do or die
Seventy-two flavors in this b*tch, you can choose a price
Where I wanna take off today? Let me choose a flight
b*tch, you can make a hundred K if you do it right
Beat a n*gga ass, stomped his head, then shoot him twice
I just made my fiend kill hisself, I took him to a knife
We on our way to get a n*gga gone, I'm the shooter, right?
[Outro]
Of course, Mike