Mic Check lyrics

[Intro]
(Damn, Jay, this sh*t hard)
Gah, gah, gah, gah
(IMixNation for real)
(On God, Chen just made a banger, yeah)
Veno

[Chorus]
Mic check, one, two (Check this motherf*cker)
Talkin' out his top, might step on you (Step on that motherf*cker)
Barbecue, beef sh*t, leave him hot like stew
Four hoes, my di*k leave ’em stuck like glue (Lil' bitty b*tch)
I'm cruisin’ in my six-four, but I got that 30 on me
I got charges pendin', the judge, he tryna put thirty on me
Up late night, I'm gettin' it, I'm trappin' until the early morning (Trap)
All these n*ggas b*tches, I'm richer than all of my opponents

[Verse 1]
Richer than my opps, yes, sir (Uh-huh, b*tch)
If you richer than your opps, say, "Yes, sir" (Ayy, b*tch)
If you tryna spin the block, say, "Yes, sir"
Hop out with this Glock and run 'em down and put this b*tch to work (I see him cryin’ like a ho)
I see them tears runnin’ down your face
I know trick mad as f*ck when I beat my attempted murder case
We like to hit sh*t up, we be slidin' late night with them Dracs
So shut that b*tch sh*t up ’fore we pull up and wet up your place
Goddamn, we done left a pool there
Neighborhood, slide through your block in a wheelchair
My paper good, I tried to leave the block, but I'm still there
I wish you would, you gon' meet the Glock, n*gga, be aware
[Chorus]
Mic check, one, two (Check this motherf*cker)
Talkin' out his top, might step on you (Step on that motherf*cker)
Barbecue, beef sh*t, leave him hot like stew
Four hoes, my di*k leave ’em stuck like glue (Lil' bitty b*tch)
I'm cruisin' in my six-four, but I got that 30 on me
I got charges pendin', the judge, he tryna put thirty on me
Up late night, I'm gettin' it, I'm trappin' until the early morning (Trap)
All these n*ggas b*tches, I'm richer than all of my opponents

[Verse 2]
That's a man down (b*tch)
Pants down, a damn clown (b*tch)
Put your hands down
'Cause we ain't shootin' nan' round
How that damn sound? (Okay)
Boy, you rattin' like a f*ckin' b*tch
'Terrogation room, I told 'em crackers eat my f*ckin' di*k (My motherf*ckin' di*k)
But that's how it go (Go)
I'm from the motherf*ckin' Four (Four)
b*tch, I'm the motherf*ckin' G.O.A.T. (G.O.A.T.)
And I got pull on the guys like a rope (Rope)
I'm with the gang, never change on the bros
Ride 18, lil' b*tch, we been that
Go pop the trunk where the motherf*ckin' stick at
Say it's a problem, we ready to fix that
Black sheet, grab the chopper, wrap 'em in a black sheet
Up the MAC and squeeze this b*tch and let it spit like Max B
This sh*t get wavy
I been makin' plays like the Patriots
f*ckin' on that b*tch, but she can't never have my baby (Nope)
We tote a lot of sticks, but we do not tote no .380s (Nope)
My uncle with the sh*t, we servin' crack like it's the '80s (Andre, Veno Gang)
And I'm just coolin' in this b*tch
Got three bad-ass lil' hoes grippin' on my Ksubis in this b*tch
Got three 18s with me grippin' on them toolies in this b*tch
I up, face-shot, man down, I might just lose it in this b*tch
Ayy, ayy, and I'm just vibin' in this ho
It's a shooter at the door