Rio Da Yung Og Finna Drop (Tour) Lyrics

[Verse]
Chrome Heart pants with some Ricks
Balenciaga shirt with the rips
It look like I got shot with a switch
All these damn holes in my shit
All these damn hoes on my dick
I might just get a Rolls for my bitch
Not a rose, like, a motherf*ckin' Rolls-Royce
You could f*ck a broke nigga, bitch, that's your choice
I been rappin' all night, I got a gone voice
I mean my voice gone
Stop askin' 'bout that gun, boy, your toy gone
Stop askin' 'bout— man, that boy gone
Like, he ain't nowhere to be found
Swear to God, you wouldn't even find that nigga in the ground
I got a roll of hundreds on me, weigh a pound
Each bill weigh a gram, so that's like forty-five thousand
I went and spent this shit on some trousers
Fifty patches on my jeans and my boxers
Confident, I'll get in the ring with a boxer
If he hit me too hard, I'ma swing, then pop him
It's a 10 milli', but that thing sound like a chopper
Heli in the ARP, this bitch sound like a helicopter
Got a new pint, but it's short, I'm finna tell the doctor
But I'm really bein' petty 'cause I paid eleven dollars
I had good insurance
Hit the bitch for a whole hour, I had good endurance
He post a pic with dog shit, but it wasn't current
Then I found out it wasn't yours
So you got old pics of another nigga stash?
I'm a real street nigga, bae, I can't f*ck you in the ass
But we can go outside right now, I'll f*ck you in the grass
If I f*cked you and I see you out in public, I ain't even gon' say shit to you, I'ma laugh
I had failed social studies, but I'm good at math
Why the f*ck I'm learnin' 'bout some shit that I don't know happened? Your lil' brother got a switch, but your bro be cappin'
I'm great with this ARP pistol, I could blow it backwards
All hundreds in my knots, so I could fold it backwards
Still gon' have a blue strip down the middle
High as f*ck off a G6 and a Skittle
Off a blue 30
Matter fact, I took two 30s, it was 2:30
Six ounces in the cup, man, it's too dirty
In every city, ridin' through the hood, I'm just juice searchin'
I'm just lookin' for the drank
I don't wanna f*ck the bitch 'cause it's lookin' like it stank
Quarter million in the wire, I just took it out the bank
Stuffed it in my Louis bag, I never put it in the safe
I'ma shoot you if I put it in your face
She gon' suck it if I put it in her face
Bitch, I got a gun on me, stop touchin' on my waist
I wanna see his head explode, I'm finna touch him with the Drac'
f*ck Kendrick and f*ck that nigga Drake
Just had a threesome with two drunk hoes, somethin' finna stank
Future just dropped, Rylo dropped, so nothing's in the way
I'm probably finna go number one in a couple days
Well, a couple weeks, well, a month or two
I don't know when the tape drop, I gotta ask dude
Brodie ridin' in a slow car with a fast dude
Yeah, my other lil' bro in a Mopar, he gon' track you
He gon' catch you, he might make you crash
I make music for the soul, it's gon' make you laugh

[Outro]
It's gon' make you feel good
I done moved out the Flint five years ago, but I'm still hood
I spray-painted the Drac' black, but it's still wood
And I'd f*ck your bitch again if I still could