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back stabbers - cashclick boog & rio da yung og lyrics

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[intro]
(i hear you, jay c)

[verse 1: cashcl!ck boog]
don’t give a f*ck about a label, the trap slappin’
the safe full with so much currency ’cause i’m cash havin’
tryna meet face*to*face to do a feature, just cash app me
remy told me stop sippin’ lean, them my bad habits
off a perc’, beat the p*ssy up, i’m a jackrabbit
hollow tip touch your torso like a backscratcher
hit the d and everybody show me love, just ask bla$ta
just blew a hundred racks on some lean, boy, i’m ass*backwards
[verse 2: rio da yung og]
i can’t run around actin’ like i’m rich, i’m asthmatic
if i’m in a situation where i run, i blast backwards
brown box with the bubble wrap, that’s a glass casket
n*gga ran up on me while i’m in the bay, i let bla$t blast him
half a brick is eighteen o’s, it’s mathematics
i ain’t got no pocket sp*ce for the pape’, i’ma backpack it
glock already got one in the head, don’t gotta rack back it
i love a pretty b*tch with good credit that act ratchet

[verse 3: cashcl!ck boog]
b*tch, what time you on?
picked up my first glock, i was nine years old
remember i ain’t have eleven cents, couldn’t buy no girbauds
but now i’m rich and i spend most of my time in a rolls
noddin’ off in the stu’, rich like, “b*tch, you blinkin'”
every time i pull through the ritz, they be like, “b*tch, you famous”
if she ain’t got a rollie on her wrist, then that b*tch too basic
stay at the trip, then i’m back to the strip tryna get new paper

[verse 4: rio da yung og]
only reason dog got a pass ’cause he was with his baby
the first time i drunk actavis, i was with my auntie
i still can’t believe them ho*ass n*ggas told on kd
how the f*ck do you know jc and you ain’t smoke with a*lee?
i’m tired of drinkin’ cough syrup, i’m on phase three
but it’s crazy, i got to day three and poured an eight of lean
if he got some money and his kids starvin’, that ain’t g
spank somethin’ on camera with a ski mask on, bro, that ain’t me
[outro: rio da yung og]
ghetto boyz sh*t, n*gga
you know what the f*ck goin’ on
cashcl!ck, yeah
from the bay to the hood
from the bay to the flint town, that’s how we get down
got this ‘za play right now, i need fifty*six pounds
we get— alright now
we get fifty cent an ounce for the actavis
y’all n*ggas ain’t—
ayy, ayy, ghetto boyz sh*t, n*gga, sh*t on the floor

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