Rio Da Yung OG - Rio Free Album Lyrics

Yeah, Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga
You know what the f*ck goin' on
Money Is Not Everything
Free the whole ghetto
I'm back in my mood now, you know what I'm sayin'?
Get to this shit
What y'all want? Alright

Ayy, it's the Yung OG, I just poured a three
Nigga, f*ck a Za bag, I just sold a tree
Still'll pass my man the ball, I got an open three
C got a six of Act', I told him hold a three
Two hundred on the Rio piece so they can know it's me
Twenty million, all cash, I got a goal to reach
This shit feel different when you independent
I could wake up in the morning and go spend a million
Bro got a crock pot, tryna spend the chicken
Run up on some fast shit and get killed in Lenox
Stamped in my hood, I don't even need my windows tinted
Beat his head with the Glock 'til the pistol bendin'
You a little nigga, I could put out ten G's and get you killed in prison
I know the beat two minutes, but let me trip a minute
I see you got a double cup, but what you sippin' in it?
Louis bag got chicken in it
Brown pint of Hi-Tech, I ain't sippin' liquor
This bad redbone bitch want my pickle in her
Yesterday, I fried a twelve hard, not a chicken dinner
Why you braggin' on that AP and my kitchen bigger?
You run around owin' niggas and I got Ricky with me
Would you believe I made a mixtape in fifty minutes?
Sprayed the crowd with ARP, we hit fifteen niggas
They ain't die, but we still got our point across
My OG richer than you rappers off of boy and soft
Next time I go to Jersey, knockin' Toya off
I done made so much pape', I'm above the law
I knew that wasn't no real Actavis, it ain't numb my jaw
I got a plug on some shit you might not never find
Yeah, I let you f*ck my bitch, she was never mine
I was finna pull up with the- nah, never mind
C got a pint, he drunk a five, but he lovin' mine
Freaky loose with the Glock, he did a Cheddar Bob
All I do is count dog shit, I need a bank teller job
Okay, you got your pint of red, but I ain't sellin' mine
Took the whole pint to two G's, he hit it seven times
I just found a four of Act', I feel better now
I really made a couple M's and I can tell you how
He thought he was finna get away, but we ran him down
At first she had some clean pussy, I could smell it now
Took a hundred pills to West Virginia, made eleven thousand
Three mil' in equity, I can't sell my house
Your daddy told, you grew up and told, you a better mouse
Da Yung OG 'nem back in the city, bring your cheddar out
BM beggin' me to hit her, I'ma sweat her out
Thirty-five hundred for a sweater now
On my real estate shit, I got eleven houses
Don't really give a f*ck about this crib, I done slept on couches
Can't believe they killed my brother at that dope house
Burned that bitch down, now ain't nobody sellin' dope out it
Ask about me in my hood, I bet they know 'bout me
The first time I drunk Act', had my nose snotty
And why the f*ck you tuck your chain? We don't wanna rob you
And I could really tell you ain't go to Wafi
I got a white boy from up North, he only want powder
Left the halfway house in thirty minutes, I made four thousand

(Mama, what you doin'? You cook up somethin'?) Yeah
Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga, alright

Sixty months in the feds, I can take that
Soon as I came home, I had to taste Act'
I see you got a BBL, but can you shake that?
I'm petty, ask the gas station clerk for my change back (yeah, this is Wack)
Ask around, I got picked up in a Maybach
The vacuum 'round twenty-five hunnid, I paid that
I been gone for three years and eight months, you tryna shake back
So if you really think shit sweet, where your cake at?
Where your dog shit? I got petty, paid the drank man in all tens
Worked my way up, I had to crawl in
Spent so much at the Louis store, ain't had to call in, I do walk-ins
Can't believe this clip full with some baldheads
In 2018, we drunk all red
We ain't f*ck with Akorn, that's what you call red?
Old AK-47 same size as Tall Tim
You wanna get some work done, you gotta call Will
We ain't do no funny camera tricks, bro, this all real
Yeah, I took a deal from EMPIRE, a lil' small deal
Dropped it in the summer and recoup 'fore the fall end
Glock popper, scram scraper
White bitch kind of pale, go get a tan, baby
One-of-one Louis clothes made by hand, baby
I'm really finna do some crazy shit, nah, I ain't sayin' maybe
They gave us ninety for a show, we was only sayin' eighty
Bitch think I'm finna wear her merch 'cause her friend made it
Bitch, how you still broke? Who is your man, baby?
Right hand, one-twenty, left hand, eighty
Can't believe I hit this ratchet bitch and had a damn baby
Nigga, I ain't let the feds slow me down
I definitely ain't gon' let a bitch hold me down
Nigga, f*ck this glass pint, I'll throw it down
I got a curfew, I can't really f*ck, bae, blow me down
Have you ever got some head in a Maybach?
Nigga, I'll probably drop dead if they make Act'
You know a bitch ain't turnt no more, she say, "Take me back"
Ten thousand for a pint of Actavis, I paid that
My bitch bougie, she'll never eat no Shake Shack
I drunk Sosa whole eight, he said don't pay him back
Only thing I'm really worryin' 'bout is gettin' my weight back
I'm in the yellow school bus off a pink 10
Fifty thousand every two days and I'm on week ten
I'm mad as f*ck, I gotta pee again
'Cause I just drank a whole pint durin' the weekend
And I don't want no regular Sprite, give me a Remix
My nigga ice somethin' out of town, that's some G shit
.308 bullets make trees split
Your breath stank, only talk when the weed lit
Just let a random nigga f*ck my bitch, on my P shit
Bae, you know you got the best pussy if I skeet quick

(It's a Wayne beat)
Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga, Money Is Not Everything, nigga, yeah
Boyz Ent, you know what I'm sayin', nigga, yeah
(F*ck the fire, we got grease)

What the business is?
You be with them niggas who be killin' kids
Bud asked for the Percs, he a skittlehead
I'm a skittlehead too, and a six of red
I was in the feds
I just did a fed' bid with my nigga Reg
Ayy, Mike, who was that lil' bitch over there in your bed?
Looked like the same one was in here givin' all us head
Five thousand dollars for some jogging pants
They like, "Rio actin' stingy with the pape', leave your dogs some bread"
Nigga, I ain't got no money, hahaha
Hold on, nigga
Nigga, I ain't got no money, how that sound?
Sealed eight of Alpharma peach-mint, how that was found?
Dude ain't really drop shit, go ask around
Mike on some cop shit, he gotta pat you down
And Bud just got into a fight with Pat and Ron
And a Percocet
Baby, split a mushroom, let's have perfect sex
It's only two things guaranteed, that's birth and death
Yeah, I'm right-handed, bitch, but I can work the left
The black truck hit a right, so we took a left
We just did a pint of Quay' bad, nigga, look what's left
Stop askin' 'bout a f*ckin' Rio show, I'm booked to death

Like, I'm booked 'til I die, like
I'm booked to death
Like every year, every day, every month, nigga, you know what I'm sayin'?

Fifty bands in my pocket, how you do that?
Every time them niggas shot at us, you know we blew back
I beat her down from the back, she need a new back
Can't believe these goofy lean drinkers think it's new Act'
C got a glass pint, how you do that?
It's a six-hour flight, but he flew back
You the type of nigga ask your brother for his shoes back
Put anything in the pop, I'm wit' Do Dat
Whole ounce in one night, how you oot that?
Nasty nigga, bitch pussy pooted, I might poot back
Twenty racks each ear and they on screw back
My nigga Trey went to bust a play and got a new hat
Four K's at one time, how you shoot back?
Baby girl got a swimming pool, I'm finna backstroke
We was f*ckin' for two hours, think my back broke
Bitch said my dick little, but I cracked, though
If you ain't out here scram scrapin', then what you rap for?
Hundred thousand dollars off one song what I rap for
Still tryna decide, is it Hi-Tech or Act' more?
I know a nigga up an M, he just act broke
I'm with a redbone thicker than crack smoke
Try to use your thinking cap to get your hat broke
I only hang with slimy niggas with no backbone
This the newest iPhone, but this my trap phone
Wouldn't even talk about no dead bodies on a TracFone
I'm tryna text my other bitch, I used Track phone
I listened to your lil' tape, it was wack, dog
But at least you got a listen from your baby, I ain't cap, though
I love rap so much, I even listen to the opps
Where the f*ck would I be if I'd listened to my pops?
He ain't even say shit
I ain't even see the nigga 'til I was eighteen
I seen Kyrie make thirty thousand off fake green
The way you niggas pourin' up, it make me hate lean
Made my bitch drink a pint, ate her pussy just to taste lean
Lil' bro'll stamp somethin' for me and he eighteen

(Marc Boomin, this you?)
What up, Marc Boomin? Man, we been- you know we still f*ck around too, though
Money is not everything, ghetto boy shit, free the whole-
I'ma say this shit every time, man
Y'all might as well get used to this shit
Fifty point diamond link on, you know what I'm sayin'?
Seventy thousand dollar watches and shit, we back
Yeah

I was sittin' in the feds, now I'm in the Maybach pourin' sixes of some red
Put a hundred in his car, you might hit him in his head
I just drunk some old red, I can feel it in my legs
My nigga want some work, I might just hit him with a brick, feelin' like I'm Craig
I don't want my dick sucked, give me your whole head
You can't tell I poured the six up, it's in a Code Red
I learned how to cook dope from my old man
But the crazy part is, I never sold grams
If Rio walkin' off the stage, then the show end
I just made a dub today on some slow shit
I don't just be f*ckin' anybody, bae, I ho shit
I might just let my son have my old kit
I heard a nigga took your gun, you a whole bitch
Eighty-five in the drum, drop the whole clip
White bitch suckin' dick good, but ain't got no lips
You can't never be the gang, you on the wrong time
These niggas washed up, hang 'em on a clothesline
I bought a pint, sold a seven, drunk a whole nine
Unc' ready to send somethin' to heaven, he hit a whole line
Nigga, I just drunk a four four times, that's a whole pint
Two-twenty on my neck, that's your whole life
Got a check from Distro and bought my ho ice
Bring me a double cup of Sprite, I don't want no ice
I can't miss when I blow, I got four lights
Took a Perc', tryna f*ck the bitch, it took a whole night
Damn, bitch, is you a virgin? Why it's so tight?
I'll break the internet right now if I go live
Stop talkin' 'bout a half a M, I made that four times in six months
We just bought a 'bow of Za, we rollin' big blunts
We ain't no petty lean drinkers, bring us big cups
A two liter in one cup, that's a Big Gulp
I think I drunk my shit too fast, got the hiccups
So much dog shit I just picked up, I need a pickup truck
Bitch, go get your ass did, you got a little butt
I got four pockets, I'ma fill 'em up
900 Brabus Rocket truck cost a million bucks
Told bro, "Hop in that Maybach, come pick me up"
Soon as I let the seat lay back, she lick me up
And I don't smoke weed no more, but let me twist it up
R.I.P. Soda, I done f*cked a lot of chicken up
Why you niggas buyin' watches that be tickin', bruh?
Slime city, I don't trust nobody, I'll kill my brother
Okay, we just smoked a zip, Will, twist another one
I f*cked a bitch ten times, we ain't kiss or nothin'
Ain't wanna pop him, I just hit him with the pistol butt
Am I Grinch or what?
'Cause I just made a million dollars and f*cked Christmas up

(It's a Wayne beat)
No cap in my rap, nigga
When I rap, nigga
I'm so f*cked up, I'll probably be strapped with-
I'll probably still f*ck, alright
I might pull up with a strap on me

Twenty thousand dollars and some Act' on me
And I don't smoke weed, I got a Black on me
I really wanna prove a point, I wanna smack somethin'
Half a M, I got a knick-knack on me
Two sticks and a Glock, I got a Kit Kat on me
You wanna go out to eat with Bud? That's my fat cousin
And he funnier than a bitch, but he'll smack for me
And this was way before I even had money
Yeah, she pretty in the face, but got a bad structure
We just walked in Blue Flame, leave the tab open
Every time I see a mall, I gotta grab somethin'
But I'm only Louis, Gucci, Balenciaga, I never had nothin'
Thirty ain't work, who got a lower tab for me?
I been movin' all day like a cab service
Nigga stole the zip, we put a slab on him
But it ain't really 'bout the pape', I never had nothin'
You gotta hit me with that face 'cause why you got a pad on you?
Like, why you pull up knowin' damn well your ass bloody?
Hit a stripper Sunday night, caught crabs Monday

I gotta stop that shit, man, like, that shit really don't be cool

I'm out in L.A., who got a bag for me?
You ain't really rich for real if your stash money
Who got another crib? I'm tryna grab somethin'
That bitch ass look real, that's why I grabbed on it
But her feet was kind of big, so I passed on her
Told you 'bout shootin' with Sosa, he'll pass on you
I know some niggas in the feds been sittin' so long they ass hurt
I know a doctor who'll write a Kia script, bro, this cash purple
Just know I'm BP if I upload a turtle shell
He drunk so much green, they done sent him to a turtle jail
Hustle, I just made a hamburger sale
Your baby daddy should've did that, he the burger man
Most niggas can't even write in cursive well
He done signed the contact, this nigga dumb as hell
Pull up to the trenches, ask 'em, "Who got a gun for sale?"
I did forty-four months 'cause I ain't wanna tell
His lil' ass couldn't even do a month in jail
Who got some real weed? This got another smell
I'm tired of people askin' why my cousin tell
I hope that nigga go to jail and don't get nothin' in his mail
Bitch, I'm legit, I don't run from 12
In my TRX, not a striker, I paid one-twelve
KB beat the nigga ass, then his gun fell
Mike picked it up, dropped a dozen shells
I got confidence, I'll punch a whale
They'll give you a half of million, all blues, that's why I f*ck with Will
I bought my cars from the dealership, I don't f*ck with Sam
Like, how y'all give me forty-four months for a couple grams?

Rio, what up my nigga?
(It's a Wayne beat)
Yeah, alright
What up, Wayne?
Ghetto Boy shit
I'm in a million-dollar house off rap, nigga, I'm just tryna rap
Aight

One-point-two just to be exact
F*ck around and blanked out, I just took a 'Zac
Bitch, when the feds grabbed me, I ain't look back
In a Gucci store, spend six racks, then get a bookbag
Right now I'm high off a lot of drank, I just look mad
That nigga ain't got dog shit, that's why he look sad
F*ck around and put an apron on, in my cook bag
Sosa for the interception with the drank, I know Snook mad
Somethin' tellin' me to do a hook bad
But I'm still in my punch bag, you know, hook, jab
Sprite damn near gone, now my cup mad
Left in a Maybach even though I had a bus pass
He went to jail and got gay, wasn't gettin' enough ass
Heard a nigga took your cell phone, you know that look bad
Don't give a f*ck how much this jacket cost, I ain't puttin' it back
Mike saved the day, I missed a shot and he put it back
Tris with the Quagen taste like glass red
That night them niggas stole my jewelry, I was half dead
I popped three 30s, drunk an eight, and took a half a Xan'
Bro, I'm still paranoid, that's why I back in
Where the f*ck you get that gun from? What's that, a MAC-10?
I seen a nigga throw his life away 'cause he ain't had hands
Ask me am I gettin' money? Look at Kaz pants
My son got on some Amiris with a roll in 'em
And he only seven years old, nigga
I don't buy diamonds no more, I'm a gold digger
Ten-mil' chunky, but the four-five ho bigger
Bitch pussy hole loose, we stuck a pole in her
Did y'all listen to my tape? I put my soul in it
Tomorrow, I'm wearin' slacks, I might pop out like a old nigga
Bro precise with that Glock, he a dome hitter
Oh, you tryna talk shit? I'm the wrong nigga
Ayy, Mike, come here real quick, bring your phone with you
This white boy tryna give us ten to send a song to him
I just know your phone slap, you got my old number
I think like a OG, but my soul younger
A thousand horses in this bitch, can't keep control of it
The house in the A, ayy, Ri, how you much owe? Nothing
Let's talk about Flint, got twenty-four of 'em
Stop worryin' 'bout what I do and go and own somethin'
Twenty-nine hunnid for the Chrome joggie
Promoters on some bullshit, let's start our own party
Crazy, I got dog shit and don't own Cartis
Ain't got enough to buy the Hellcat, but I don't want a Charger
My brother tryna get some drink, I don't wanna charge him
Oh, bro, you want a verse? Give me four thousand
What Veeze say? We already big, but finna go larger
This bracelet right here was twenty-four thousand
Nigga, f*ck your OG, I got my own mama
Three-pointer in a five-karat make it look harder
I'm finna put on every chain, make 'em look harder
Smash the gas in the TRX, I got a foot problem
Nah, that nigga feet stink, he need some foot powder
We ain't got no slugs in here, all buckshotters
I know a nigga with some money, never took shotters
How the f*ck I get indicted and I don't even know how to cook powder?

What the f*ck?

(It's a Wayne beat)
(Ooh, it's BlueStrip, baby)
Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga, Money Is Not Everything
Ghetto free, nigga
This what y'all asked for, right?
It's my turn now, shit
I let y'all niggas do what y'all had to do, you know what I'm sayin'?
This shit crazy, man
Just think about it, though, Ghetto

Pulled a Maybach to the Greyhound, this my first day out
He used to be the brick man, he doin' burpees now
I ain't never cook the dope, C learned me how
I wake up and go get me some chicken like Thursday chow (f*ck the fire, we got grease)
It's been a long time comin', it was quick, though
Sixty months in the feds, it wasn't shit, though
Louis Timbs cost a whole pint of Trish O's
Rolls truck at the airport, I gotta dip, bro
I got a bunch of shit to do, it's gon' be quick, though
I gotta jump on my lil' bitch, I'm tryna hit road
We got a whole pint poured, we don't sip fours
I went to jail with tight clothes, now it's big clothes
I had a forty-year-old man callin' me big bro
A half a million in deposits, that's for six shows
Still on the same shit, bro, keep squeezin' 'til the clip gone
C got an eight, I got an eight, shit, that's a brick poured
I drank a hundred pints in jail, you can ask Sosa
They ain't never found my phone, I hid it in the lotion
In a drop-head Ghost, the ceiling by the groceries
Maybach two bucks, I'm puttin' armor on it
One day, I did some bullshit, I know my karma comin'
My cousin did some bullshit, now he not my cousin
And I'ma keep it real with you, I'll pop my cousin
I took a plea and did my time, I am not my cousin
And f*ck it, if your daddy told, he is not my uncle
Why would I buy a Hellcat and I got Brabus money?
I told bro go to Flint and get a coffin for me
He came back with a four of Act', it started talkin' to me
Come around on loose shit, you gon' get steamrolled
We got Pai, Quagen, Tris, and some green poured
When I got them first M's, I put my team on
I bought some cut dope from bro and put some clean on it
This nigga thinkin' with the money, put a fiend on him
How you gon' shoot one time with the Glock? Put a thing on it
Hit the button on that bitch, it be like, "Brrt, bap"
Five people got killed, it got the hood hot
Four niggas in a Trackhawk, I wish we would stop
Nigga, Da Yung OG back home, I wish you would drop
Money is not everything, it's the only thing
I went six hundred with Wafi and went only chains
I was thinkin' 'bout bustin' a Rollie, but the Rollie plain
Was finna buy some drank from Snook 'nem, but then my crodie came
I just did four years, I'm a lonely man
Ten pointers in my Rio piece, I ain't go to Dang
Catch me screamin' RIP Quanny at the Notre Dame
The way she gave that head up, she don't own a brain
Make it thunderstorm in this bitch, we control the rain
Wayne fell asleep makin' beats, I'ma go to Dame
We went gold and they ain't play us on the radio
Baby mama f*ckin' up my mood, man, I hate that ho
Got some 'Za 'bows for twenty-two, but they shaky, though
Why you pass the gun to lil' cuz? You know he shaky, bro
Me and Lou in that TRX, we some gear shifters
I went GIA my ears, I don't hear niggas
How you gon' pull up to the trap with my kids with you?
Scored a cheap four of Actavis, it cost twelve-fifty
He want a 'bow, but I ain't ridin' with paraphernalia, bring a scale with you
I'm a real hustler, I'll sell chicken
Semi on a hundred-round drum, it shot for twelve minutes
Why every time somebody get shot, they say Trael did it?
We ain't in the street shit, we just sell lyrics
Bitch pussy locked up, it's a stale biscuit
I got a million dollars cash, bring some help with you
And I only got two kids, but I'll belt niggas

(It's a Wayne Beat)
Y'know how niggas used to sell they- uh TracFones?
Give me twenty two million, I'll let a nigga have that bitch
One of these labels or some'?

What the f*ck is this?
This ain't no f*ckin' Tris, what you f*ckin' mix?
Some Quay and red-
Oh, we got every-
Every drink in this bitch mixed and some f*ckin' red
Even got yellow, make you pee the bed
That's my chains movin' in the background
I'm not gon' buy the drink 'less the Act' brown
But honestly, that shit don't even mean nothin'
'Cause C keep pullin' up with fresh Act', he got me mean muggin'
This nigga even pulled up with some yellow snot
I drink so much, somebody gotta tell me "Stop"
I hope y'all know the Coast Man made dem pops
And I ain't really did shit yet, stop sayin' I'm hot
I ain't see the black and white but they said, "He hot"
I'm with the coochie man, who tryna sell twat?
I just smelled just some real Act' and damn near fell out
Me and my brother ain't talk, he said we fell out
You ain't even come out your room when the sell pop
Real dope fiends, just made Freeze mail a pop
My bitch got on silk panties with leopard spots
I wanna go in Magic City, throw a dime
I put my name on it so they know it's mine
I remember askin' bro, "Can I hold a line?"
Now we on some bullshit, we just poured a five in a can pop
Walked in the house with a pint, then I ran out the backdoor
You started runnin' when they start bustin', what you strapped for?
I then drunk a lot of drink, but I like Act' more
Why you act poor and you rich as hell?
Like we ain't know you had dog shit, we couldn't even tell
I hit with him with a ghost gun, they thought it was Trell
It's a light skin nigga at the door, I thought it was L
Big Balenciaga boots, I walked out and fell
He caught thirty months in the feds 'cause he caught a sale
My son know how to use a gun, 'cause I taught him well
Drank man had a pint but I bought a twelve
Then called him right back for the four, I should've bought the seal
That was small transaction, I just bought a pill
I came home and popped it, thought I had a deal, but I'm independent
If you lookin' for me, probably at the Waffle house with Wafi, I ain't been to Lennox
I'm probably at the studio, I say I'm in the kitchen
C on some bullshit, why you in the kitchen?
He said he wanna twirl one one time 'cause it's been a minute
Just fried a whole zip of cocaine and let Linda get it
Bitch, you get in trouble again, you gon' get suspended
I'm talkin' 'bout my baby mama, she been trippin' nigga
I just drunk some detox, that's why I'm pissin' different
Bug be on chill shit 'til the liquor hit him
Then he get to actin' crazy when the Skittle in him
You always talkin' 'bout me to the hoes, bro you pillow witchin'
For Will, I'll take a nigga soul 'cause he beneficial
I ain't talkin' about no pape', bro he been official

Like since I met him, he been official

Why you around me with no strap, bro go get a pistol
Her pussy got a supercharge, you can hear the whistle
I seen a nigga get stabbed for a piece of tissue
I think I want a Vicodin, that's the Lisa in me
My pockets bigger than the bitch Quis was hittin'
Like four pockets full, I got Teresa with me
Diamond link cost so much, don't even need a pendant
The energy we give out say, "We dem Niggas"

If you mix three different leans together, you'll be peein' different
F*ck it

(It's a Wayne beat)
Got a quarter million dollars, I got— alright
Yeah, Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga, Money Is Not Everything, nigga
(F*ck the fire, we got grease)
Broke-ass nigga, what you do today?
Alright
Ghetto Boyz shit, man, free the whole ghetto

Broke-ass nigga, what you do today?
I just bought a pint of Trish, I'm finna do an eight
Ten thousand on a joggin' fit, it's a Louis day
I got so much LV on, call me Louie Ray
That's my blood brother
Me and C just drunk a pint, that's my mud brother
My nigga fightin' for his life, he served an undercover
I beat bitches' back in, I don't go under covers
I don't kiss and tell, I don't pillow talk
Five thousand all blues'll get your killer bought
Fifty thousand all hundreds, he think hе gettin' off
That's just small pape'
I need insurance on this pint, call Allstatе
And I don't know how to cut hair, but I give bald fades
Pull up on your bitch and get my balls ate
I'm finna pull up with a brick and give 'em all shake
Da Young OG, bitch, I talk more shit than Dawgface
It's a new year, this a new pint
Went to Wafi, six hundred, I got new ice
In a 680 Maybach with the blue lights
I'd rather gamble buyin' fake drank, I don't shoot dice
My nigga shot a crib up, they gave him two lifes
Supercharger on a V truck, I just flew by
I've been up for six days like I do ice
Quarter-million dollars rap money, I made that tonight
On a eight-hour pass, I made a quarter-million
I hope I don't go to hell for abortin' children
Damn, you ain't had no Actavis? I drunk a four in prison
Bring the AR pistol in the club, I'm an important nigga
I wore Dior in prison
Baby, what you want, a purse? I'll Dior your Christian
Came home, made "RIO FREE," it took me forty minutes
Nigga, ask Will
I got a thousand Percocets, only half real
But we ain't use no fentanyl, they just Advil
Twelve hours free, I made a half mil'
I can't believe you told the bitch to pay half the bills
Count the money with my eyes closed, I got mad skills
I'm a scram scraper
The way I'm livin', I might make a hundred grand later
I don't know, bro
Ain't had no pape' when I caught this case, I went pro bono
Just cracked a seal, drunk a four, now I'm movin' slow-mo
And I don't drink them Act' pops, I heard it's Chlo-Chlo
I beat my bitch ass in broad day, she called the po-po
I can't believe this bitch tried to get me violated
.308 hit him in his head, now it's annihilated
I hit her raw nine months ago, she said she dilatin'
Found a grower on the West Coast, I'm tryna buy an acre

(Money is not everything, it's the only thing)
(It's a Wayne beat)
((?) with another one)
(His name's Pablo)

Five racks on a fit, bitch, I act stupid
V's in the green Brabus look like a crab moving
Got the bitch sucking dick, while her ass moving
Beat a C.O. bitch down, and send a rack to her
On some bullshit, I done got into some rap war
Bring your dogshit out, let's have a rap war
I might buy a 'Rari truck before we start the tour
I'm with them one niggas, the letter start with four
Supreme forces, three hundred, would've cost four
That's forty-three hundred on some shit that I barely wore
He just shot you in the leg, bro, you barely sore
I'm paranoid, answer the phone in my scary voice
Back in 2013, we was the Larry boys
Four karats each year, them lil' Jerry boys
If you ain't tryna drop shit, then what you said it for?
Bitch, I'm reach now, and I would not cap, that's what I said it for
You can't compare your man to me, he very poor
Mix the Tris with Quagen, that's very demure
I seen a nigga get his shit pushed back, I'm paranoid
We run from the state police, we call them cherry boys
Hit a left, then a right, there we never was
Baby lost a demon, he will not spare you in the club
I pulled off from my big bro, and left him with a dub
I'm on my own shit, I swear, I'm tired of helping niggas up
Seventy racks left wrist, I just got out of prison
I keep it real, the bustdown ain't mine, Jerry left it with me
I'm with my nephew Jaire, Sharon left him with me
I got a hundred in the clip, but spare a nigga fifty
KB got that trigger thang, share it to 'til it's empty
It's f*cked up, they tried to get a Biggie Bag, I left at Wendy's
Bottle cap Balenci' belt, it was eleven-fifty
Like, how we talkin' bout some shit that I never mentioned?
You niggas can just dress better than me, was never better than me
I might pop out in my city with a letter with me
That's a whole M, hopping out the 'Rari truck with the chrome Timbs
Real business man, nigga, you would never hit me
Said my phone dead, matter fact, where the f*ck my other phone at?
Nigga, I got pussy when I was in jail, wasn't no phone sex
And, I paid the bitch to bring me a pint of old red
You ain't got more money than me, f*cking bonehead
We just dropped an eight, but you could never tell, 'cause it's a code red
Yeah, you really killed a tour, your shows was dead
Kidnap him, make him shoot himself in his own forehead
I done drunk so much drank, feel like an old man
Zero miles on a Maybach, it got flowed in, it got toed in
Probably in the rack, with a switch on me, in the Low End

With some blow heads, man
Come on