The Biggest Mob lyrics

[Intro]
Huh?
On god
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[Verse: Rx Papi, Rsc Chapo]
It ain't no backdoor on the house, n*gga, what the f*ck you doin'?
I'm paranoid, you better tell your boy "Chill" 'fore I get to shooting
Situations turn bad 'cause n*ggas don't know how to play it
Brodie damn near blew the whole slab, he ain't know how to [?] it
f*ck [?], I seen my opp broad-day and I'ma face him
Yeah, this rap sh*t kinda cool
I act like I ain't got nun' to lose
We spin they block when there's nothin' to do
I spent a rap deal on my jewelry
Technically I'm not signed, but on your head I put five
Jump out the bushes with the fire (Fah, fah, fah, fah)
This n*gga think he got nine lives
Auntie dance like Mary J. Blige
b*tch, I got dope on the plate
I put the pole to your face
Cuz'nem woulda came home, but you told on the case
I reloaded my Drac', now I couldn't throw it away
They say I got a chance with rap and I shouldn't throw it away
I stand on business with my n*ggas, don't care what a n*gga say
It be a cold day in hell before I let 'em get away
It's n*ggas that I still wanna kill back from seventh grade
Lil' Yano get you gone, all he need is a picture and your name
They like "Papi talkin' crazy, it's probably 'cause the n*gga's crazy"
That boy cut throat and he a taker
Police behind us, gotta shake 'em
All I know is work the dope
I got fifty dollar grams
Scratch from the side of the bowl and serve hit to my mans
I got the Drac', don't give a damn
"Where you at?" Still sellin' grams
Take this picture, I'm your fan
Coke, lean and we selling tan
My white junkie like "Chapo, I love you"
Damn right, b*tch, I just wanna f*ck you
Make it rain with the Carbon
They like "Chapo, what you chargin'?"
A hundred a gram, two thousand a feat
Her head ain't good but the pus*y elite
These Louis Forces, don't step on my feet
n*gga, nah, for real
I can't go out of town, I got money on the streets
Ridin' 'round with your b*tch, we just had her on her knees
She like "Chapo, you a demon"
See a opp, watch, we get to squeezin'
I can't trust him 'less he Crip
You buy this bag, that's what you get
Wrist dancin', milly rockin'
He big as hell, but the Drac' stopped him
I'm down the way, I'm Glock shoppin'
It's more cut, I still lock it
I f*ck her good off the Roxi'
I wish you would, we gon' pop you
Three cubans, I'm super c*cky
Mob boss like I'm John Gotti