hunnid bars

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RMS Marr

5:10

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I got a hundred dollar bills in my pocket, nigga, f*ck them ones
Ninety-nine problems, but I bet a bitch ain't never one
Ninety-eight my gas, I'm pushin' Forgiatos, skirting dumb
Ninety-seven bullets out the clip, that shit gon' leave you done
Five rings on every finger, cowboys up in ninety-six
Ninety-five point five, I'm DMV raised, don't you try that shit
Ninety-four degrees, it's hot as hell, I'm still gon' up the stick
Smokin' on some ninety-three, I'm high as hell, it got me ripped
Bitch, I feel like Jordan, up in ninety-two, just won the chip
Ninety-one's up in your pocket, nigga, you is broke as shit
Eighty-nine switches, shit, we runnin' out of Glocks to fit
Eighty-eighths up in my system, bitch, I'm bout to take a trip
Smokin' eighty-seven round me, do not pass it to me, skip
Eighty-six like eighty sticks, we runnin' out of Glocks to fit
Eight to five, I never had a job, but I'm still fuckin' rich
Up the score, it's eight to four, we bout to go and spin they rip
I got eighty-three hoes in my phone, feel like a fuckin' player
Eighty times two, a hundred sixty grams in the container
I'm droppin' eighty-one shots, feel like I'm Kobe, nigga, see you later
Eight to zero, bitch, we winnin' blowouts, keep us on your radar
Smokin' on some za, shit got me movin' like I'm seventy-nine
Seventy-eight bullets to your face, cause you was wastin' time
Feelin' like I'm Luka, droppin' buckets, seven-seven times
It's more than seventy-six ways to go get paid, why you still ridin' mines?
Seven fives in your spread, nigga, where the hunnids at
Seventy-four places to perform, this tour shit got me mad
Seventy-three's, I feel like I'm Curry, way I'm shootin' bad
Nigga born in 1972 and he's still on my ass
Seven-one, just add another one, seven-eleven shit
Seven-nothing, bitch, I'm up to somethin', tryin' to catch a lick
Omerta, that's the code, no sixty-nine, you better not fuckin' snitch
Sixty-eight got sixty eighths, get pulled over, I up the stick
Sixty-seven, he get sent to heaven, let him touch my diamonds
Sixty-six, the diamond wrist, I probably could've bought a island
Sixty-five, the price for my new scat, the engine out here whining
You playin' with your life, N64, we'll leave your mother crying
Feelin' like I'm Von, the way I never fucked with sixty-third
I spent sixty-two up on my feet, my cash up to the birds
Niggas riding dick, you born in sixty-one, don't say a word
Sixty seconds in a minute, and I'ma make sure that I'm heard
Fifty nines up in this truck, bad day to be an opp
Sold fifty eighths this week, I ain't think that the sales could stop
Fourth and fifty-seven, playin' Madden, bet the team won't swap
Fifty-five times out of fifty-six, bet your bitch gon' slop
Fifty-four, fifty-three, shit, I'm knockin' lines out
I played all fifty-two cards I was dealt, I never had no doubts
Fifty ones up in your pocket, can't buy shit with that amount
Fifty lines down, got fifty more until this song go out
Forty-nine lines to go, I'm really out here chasin' pape
Dissin' in a song, I bet you get put on First forty-eight
Just a thought, I sat, spent forty-seven thousand, feelin' great
I got forty-two bags of that za, that shit got a lot of weight
Forty-fifths up in the trunk, you play and you get hit with one
It's forty-four degrees, I'm high as hell, I'm out here sweating dumb
Forty-three hours up on your shift, you better not sleep on one
Sixty minus forty-two, that's eighteen opps I'm smokin' on
Why you steady tryna beef, I'm fifteen and you forty-one
I'ma up this forty if you run up, is you fuckin' dumb?
Thirty-nine hoes up in my DM, they can't get a crumb
I shot that thirty-eight so many times, my finger's goin' numb
Bent your bitch in thirty-seven ways, I bet she know my name
Thirty-six, thirty sticks, this ARP gon' send him back
Three-five in the jay, we smokin' the entire pack
I got thirty-four shots in this drac' so empty out the sack
Ran up with that thirty-three and bagged him, thought his shoes ain't fit him
Playin' on my name, I bet this G32 fuckin' kill him
Thirty-one up on my back, I'm feelin' like I'm Reggie Miller
Thirty in the clip, I'm way too militant, just shoot niggas
Fat shit in my clip, you catch my twenty-nine straight to your dome
Twenty-eighths, I sold today, I'm feelin' like I'm Al Capone
He give me anything less than twenty-seven and he won't make it home
I been catchin' fights, I'm like twenty-six miles away from Rome
Christmas Day, I pop him in his shit, gift him eternal slumber
Feelin' like I'm Kobe, 24, I'm knockin' down the numbers
F*ck it, nah, I feel like Michael Jordan, twenty-three, I'm clutchin
They give me twenty-two years in the slammer, bet you I ain't sayin' nothin
Feelin' like a savage, twenty-one shots, bet his ass gon' feel it
Twenty more lines up in this song like, bitch, we almost finished
Up this Glock-19, don't got no switch but it's still doin' damage
I'm not even eighteen and I'm still richer than your fuckin' family
I'm clutchin' on the seventeen, I whip it out, somebody dyin
Sixteen, I'm pushin' whips like I just got my fuckin' license
I'm only fifteen, so how the f*ck my wrist already shining
My young nigga fourteen, but off the za, I swear that nigga wiser
Feelin' like I'm Jason, hope the thirteen don't fall on a Friday
We gon' skip right to eleven because nigga, f*ck twelve
Ten shots, I'm lettin' go like, f*ck it, bout to raise some hell
Niggas calling 9-1-1 like, f*ck that, I ain't goin' to jail
Eighth of Wockiana, I don't skip, so I'ma go and sell
Seven years up in the pen, you doin' time inside a cell
Bitch, I'm on Route 66, I'm movin' around the country better
Five rings up on my fingers, diamonds get her pussy wetter
Up the score, it's four to O, that's probably why these niggas hatin
Three shots to the top, he movin' reckless, he gotta be patient
Two hoes in my phone, don't even think my mind could go and take it
One of one, I'm special, made a promise, I won't fuckin' break it

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer