Listen Up lyrics

[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 apiece, 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 'em

[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' on 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 with some— 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 bullsh*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 killin' on the road, ain't talkin' 'bout no punch
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 pus*y, it cost me to c*m
Fronted my my fiend out his whole check, it 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 his son
I just beat the back off your b*tch, she tossed me a hun'
I just took the back off this b*tch and drop a hundred ones

[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'