[Rio Da Yung OG:]
(Ooh, SAV killed it)
Alright
I'm back in this, hey, nigga, I'm back, nigga, fuck what y'all niggas talkin' 'bout
Alright
Okay, I'm back, I took a break, it was temporary
I made damn near ninety racks off "Legendary"
Free the ghetto, he'll be home 'round February
Bitch asked when I'ma spend some time with her, I said, "Neveruary"
Tryna make a million cash in my itinerary
Got some rap money and bought a bunch of artillery
I'm good in every state I go to, these niggas scared of me
Fuck a Pitbull, bitch, I'm the dog, be aware of me
Too much lean and Percocets, got me scared to sleep
Hit a bitch raw, I think she burned me, got me scared to pee
Mask on when I start bustin', it was never me
I think I'm finna rap ninety bars, don't wanna share the beat
[RMC Mike:]
Sixty-five-inch flatscreens sittin' in every room
Sorry, baby, I can't love you 'cause I married food
White bitch with some big titties look like Betty Boop
PLR got a gas tube, I'll let it poot
Glock 30 came small as hell but mean big business
Bitch started playin' with my sack, so I hit-sticked her
Wocky in my cup, you pourin' green, it's a big difference
Skate down your block and pop an opp top while I'm kickflippin'
Ayy, what up, SDot?
I swear, my white boy sold more dog than a pet shop
I was overdue, she gave me head at the rest stop
Gen4 .357, I buy the best Glocks
[GrindHard E:]
Ridin' down I-75, just passed Big Beaver
Police got behind me, I hid the pills in the bitch cleavage
Went and picked up a bitch for nothin', she was misleadin'
Fucked up in the head, I be happy if I catch a bitch cheatin'
Get the fuck gone, like, bitch, beat it
Got her comfortable, made her tell me all her deep secrets
Told the bitch that I love her once, but I didn't mean it
PLR with a shellcatcher, you can meet Jesus
??? when I go to sleep, I be fightin' demons
Drunk a pint fast, ain't no more, now it got me fiendin'
Fiend got down on me for thirty pills 'cause I didn't read 'em
Told me they was Percocets tens, but they was seven-fifties
[Rio Da Yung OG:]
Seven hundred blues in my stash spot
Red-tipped shells in a black Glock
Two headshots'll leave a nigga flatter than a laptop
Sorry to inform you, this ain't Wock', this an Act' pop
I know I'm gettin' money, but I act broke
Fell asleep in the car for two days, feel like my back broke
My new bitch pretty and she thicker than crack smoke
I'm damn near a millionaire, what I'ma buy a Hellcat for?
[RMC Mike:]
Paid the bitch to fuck, her pussy trash, I want my money back
Last week, Trael FaceTimed me with two hundred racks
Beat the lining out this bitch pussy, I'm off a hundred-pack
I made ten off ???, bring Sunny back
That's my favorite Arab
Twenty-two minutes is how long a whole eight last
Pablo Picasso with this K, we in paint class
Fuck the pussy, I just want some head with your stank ass
Go down the street you tryna cop some blues, 'cause I'm poppin' mine
Peezy sent the contract I signed on a dotted line
I can never tell my bitch the truth, but I am not a liar
On the road to riches, want a ride, you gotta buy a tire
My bitch think I'm stressin' 'cause I'm chain-smokin' Newports
I burned the 'Cat up at Cook Park, they need a new court
I'm plugged with the plug, your mans dry, you need a new source
I swear to God, I think I say "Bitch" better than Too Short
[GrindHard E:]
Don't put no weed on that scale, it's been dope on it
I don't even ride past my block, ain't no hope on it
She ain't put her mouth, she put her throat on it
Bitch acts too childish to me, she ain't no woman
Auntie used to play with the hard, now she snowblowin'
Started trickin' off last month, damn near went broke from it
???
The bag ain't movin' fast enough, so I'm slow rollin'
Clutch runnin' in and out the crib, who left the door open?
FN bullets fast, leave a nigga heart in slow-motion
[Rio Da Yung OG:]
Okay, I'm ready to go hard, last year was just really practice
Pop a nigga up, then go eat me a Philly sandwich
Bitch, I ain't trickin' with you, that's for kids, you silly rabbit
You worried 'bout installations, need to go buy a better mattress
Twelve years ago, I was cough syrupin'
I just clocked in the booth, I don't think I'll get out 'til Thursday
I done bought hoes liquor and Plan B, I never bought Birkins
Twelve lines of drank and six blues, when I walk, I'm swervin'
Ain't no phones in the trap, I can't talk, I'm servin'
Hit the club a hundred deep, I think we lost a person
Fancy-ass nigga, bitch, I talk in cursive
Had her suckin' dick all night, her esophagus hurtin'
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
