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 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