Exotic Pops ft. RMC Mike Lyrics

What up Mike

Bitch

Five seven twenty eight bullets

The blue ones

I'm tryna' cash a twenty three Tesla

The new one

Chased him down and stood over his body

We two up

But the tris so god damn nasty I almost threw up

Bro just took a roxi go insane he finna boot up

A hundred mil cash in the future get yo loot up

He thought his girl could hit a lick

We got his boo touched

Unky got some new legal AR's lemme buss one

Cuz said he got a new method

Let me punch one

Porsche nine eleven there's a back and a front trunk

This gelato mixed with da skittles

The runtz one

He ain't think I had dog shit I had to up one

There ain't really shit in my city we open doors

We the most valuable players on the

Court you hold the score

How you only up five bands? Get you some more

Runnin to the bag Tyreek Hill

But I don't play no sports

Crossed him out the box we gon send him to the lord

Black and white LaFerrari with the butterfly doors

Try to play with my top we on his head like a fedora

We walk around with the bag no Diego & Dora

I got too many racks for me to count it

First you add some water to the pot and then you lock it

Prolly' still the best thing out this bitch to be honest

I don't got the drum today so imma have to stock it

She had a lot of ass

Shit I had to jump behind it

My bank be in the plus

How yo shit be in the minus?

The shit I say so hard it'll make you go rewind it

I fucked up the verse imma have to go rewrite it

I gotta young nigga that'll kill you for a comma

I got a young dawg done been through a lot of trauma

Before I started fuckin' with the Glocks it was llamas

I go through a zip a day I smoke more than a rasta

I be smokin' loose leafs you the type to smoke a fronto

I was on Adams gettin money like Yolanda

Told bro we gon make it off the rap shhh that I promise

Murder everyday in my city check the violence

We ain't rappin' we just rhymin'

The labels be hittin' my manager but nah I ain't gon' get to signin'

Tryna' book me for a show send a deposit

I'm outside by myself wit' a stick Davy Crockett

Every other day I check a flight check the mileage

Pop came white but i turnt that bitch violet

Still mesmerized by the money that keep pilin'

She got a ugly face imma' have to doggy style her

Bitch I'm good in any hood yea I'm valid

Neighborhood superstar nigga check the status

Now we pullin' up in twenty twenty two Mavericks

Used to eat plain Pringle's now a nigga living lavish

Ghetto boyz run the game now and I'm the captain (Bitch)

Who the hell this white boy walking round he lookin like a crackhead

I'll pull up to yo own hood and ask you what's happening

I love the wock but I was kinda too young for the actavis

I might get my moms name written on me get it tatted in

I'm finna blow up just like and explosion hope you strappin' in

They wonder why I'm so confident just go ask the kid

Try to touch my head and it's gon' be a catastrophe

Five seven twenty eight bullets

The blue ones

I'm tryna' cash a twenty three Tesla

The new one

Chased him down and stood over his body

We two up

But the tris so god damn nasty I almost threw up

Bro just took a roxi go insane he finna boot up

A hundred mil cash in the future get yo loot up

He thought his girl could hit a lick

We got his boo touched

Unky got some new legal AR's lemme buss one

Cuz said he got a new method

Let me punch one

Porsche nine eleven there's a back and a front trunk

This gelato mixed with da skittles

The runtz one

He ain't think I had dog shit I had to up one

There ain't really shit in my city we open doors

We the most valuable players on the

Court you hold the score

How you only up five bands? Get you some more

Running to the bag Tyreek Hill

But I don't play no sports

Crossed him out the box we gon send him to the lord

Black and white LaFerrari with the butterfly doors

Try to play with my top we on his head like a fedora

We walk around with the bag no Diego & Dora