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mike smiff - intro lyrics
n_ggas told me you can’t go to war ’til you get your money right n_gga
well i done got with the money team
trick daddy told me i can talk my sh_t
touche told me i can talk my motherf_cking sh_t n_gga
slip_n_slide records we the motherf_cking mob n_gga
mike smiff, mr. florida, mr. down south dade county turnpike south exit 6 b_tch
m.i.a.m.i. we got the motherf_cking streets now n_gga yes sir
touche, trick yall put yall feet up, i got this sh_t
right hand on a stack of bibles, i will slap the sh_t out of one these b_tch_ass n_ggas
dade county, we back yes sir
reporting live from the dope whole
n_gga m.i.a. we got the streets in a choke whole
f_ck n_gga where that money at
look me in my eyes, welcome to the mind of a maniac
man, i just don’t give a f_ck
take me to any ‘hood, drop me off, i’m ‘a run it up
i’m a motherf_cking rider
a hustler, go_getter, survivor
i understand ain’t n0body finna give me shut
dropped out of high school went to drilling sh_t
young n_ggas slanging hammers like i’m building sh_t
murder one ain’t nothing, i’ll k!ll a b_tch
went to jail, told the judge i was innocent
kept my mouth closed n_gga, i was militant
my whole team got federal indictments
b_tch you couldn’t walk a mile in these nikes
still in the streets
still got that fie stuff down in my briefs
still with the smoke
my n_gga still in the ’hood still selling dope
we ain’t going back broke
n_gga how would you react with your back to the ropes
n_ggas already know
i done been in that pressure and ain’t never fold
slip_n_slide over anything
we don’t rock tight shirts we don’t rock skinny jeans
still let our pants sag
n_gga pocket full of racks, n_gga we don’t rock man bags
finna take it back to the streets
i might rock d_ckies all week
i might go and buy a benz
i might mask up and break buddy roe out the pen
this that miami knight sh_t
that convertible bert rick brownlee and ike sh_t
bo diddly, bunky brown, and pop young
ump jr walker, and sunny bun
uncle al would be proud of me
in a chevy with a 3.5 on that loud on me
riding ’round with my music up booted up
n_gga run up on me i’m ‘a shoot ’em up
real n_ggas in the building, n_gga what it do
b_tch i’m mike smiff, who the f_ck is you?
you ain’t talking about money, it don’t matter
young n_ggas in the field like a cattle
n_gga we ain’t scared of nothing but a gavel
a n_gga still will never snitch, never tattle
always got fire like a candle
always got a bag like santa
big guns, quarter keys, and lawyer fees
alcoholics, dead bodies, and narcotics
n_gga, i done seen it all
i done seen it all
i just want to ball
i just want to ball
run it up, run it up, run it up n_gga
a quarter million dollars ain’t enough n_gga
we need ms on ms on ms
i’m trying to pull up in the foreign with the rims
r.i.p. rey day got d_mn
he was there when i was shooting in the gym
i done lost a whole lot
my word my b_lls and this glock all i got
can’t stop ’til i make it to the top
can’t stop ’til my pockets full of knots
redrum got sticks for the opps
riding around with them brooms and them mops
i do it for the gangstas and the thugs
i do it for the n_ggas in the mob
i do it for all the single mothers
i do it for the people in the struggles
i do it for the dealers and the strippers
i do it for the smugglers and the [?]
i do it for the n_ggas in the pen
slip_n_slide records we gon’ get it in
ain’t got a job but i’m finna go to work
n_gga intervene, we gon’ put him in a he_rs_
we finna lock this rap sh_t down
came for the check, we ain’t come to play ’round
we got the heat, we got the streets
you don’t f_ck with us n_gga you ain’t finna eat
p_ssy_ass n_gga, get down or lay down
y’all n_ggas name don’t hold weight now
hate it or love it, the underdogs on top
we the big black rock wilders on the block
eyes low looking like i just woke up
team full of hittas, who the f_ck want what
big bucks, big cars, big trucks
ninty six 2pac hit ’em up
mike smiff putting it all on the line
and slip_n_slide finna shine like it’s ninty nine lil b_tch
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