187

[Intro: Slimesito] Rich Slime Global FUCKTHEPOPULATION Rich slime, yeah, ayy (FIFTY) Clayco, nigga Yea [Chorus: Slimesito] I spin the block, nigga like I'm flex First shot in his head and then I aim at his neck I'm poppin' them percs, I don't do no X My shooter got Glocks so bombs htime so he ball me collect I'm Rich Slime know im dying bout respect (Slime) My niggas got 50's we ain't doin no TECs Just sent hit on 'em I ain't sent no text Just pour some Wockhardt on a jet I'm countin' that real plata, I can't stress I'll line my shooters, you know them some vets They shoot straight up they don't leave no mess Straight headshots, I don't care about no vest (Nah) I sleep in the trap, barely get some rest This bitch from New York she goes to Georgia Tech Been countin' that plata 'cause I stay invested [Verse 1: Slimesito] Ain't hearin' these niggas, man it's like I'm deaf She like my pictures, tryna get request I bust my Glock, you know this shit no question I'm homicide gang, you know it's 187 I load the flu tips, you know they 5.7 My shooter throw it off, start actin' like Melvin I get locked up you better know I'm bailin' I dont see niggas like im Helen Keller Try to test me, better know you failin' I'm toting Gen 5's you know [?] I see through the hate, you know it's not prevailing I been an outlaw, you know I stay rebelling These niggas some bitches, they slow as pills I'm workin' that pack, did it with no scale In a red Cat, you know it look like hell Got 43X, know it got a rail [?] Im smokin on opps, yeah I'm rollin Ls That nigga got beaten, caught him at the Shell I been rich slime, so now I'm [?] I'm trappin' in the spot, use it for the mail My phone stay ringin', you know it's clientele Man how you got bodies and you ain't drop no shells In love with this money, man I think im spelled [Chorus: Slimesito] I spin the block, nigga like I'm flex First shot in his head and then I aim at his neck I'm poppin' them percs, I don't do no X My shooter got Glocks so bombs htime so he ball me collect I'm Rich Slime know im dying bout respect (Slime) My niggas got 50's we ain't doin no TECs Just sent hit on 'em I ain't sent no text Just pour some Wockhardt on a jet I'm countin' that real plata, I can't stress I'll line my shooters, you know them some vets They shoot straight up they don't leave no mess Straight headshots, I don't care about no vest (Nah) I sleep in the trap, barely get some rest This bitch from New York she goes to Georgia Tech Been countin' that plata 'cause I stay invested [Verse 2: Black Kray] Pull up, slay your opp Pull up, city on top, beam wit it on top Rackz with some top Red beam on top Red beam on the mop [?] We shooting the scene, we move [?] Know nigga not hittin like this I'm in the coupe wit the beam Get brain, get smoked like a fiend Pull up, shake the scene K9 crew my doggie off a bean Hood Vamp, gold fangs This stick on me Goth shawty [?] [Outro] Sounds by FTP