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8 hour drive - nice lyrics

[intro: rio da yung og]
yeah
boyz ent, n*gga, what up, nice?

[verse 1: rio da yung og]
eight*hour drive, i’ma drive the whole way
b*tch ain’t tryna stuff, i’ma make the ho stay
tryna hand*count a hundred racks, it’s gon’ take a whole day
take off a n*gga whole face with an old k
i hit the— with the— it got a strong taste
i know my last b*tch mad, i came a long way
uppin’ dog sh*t, now she saltier than old bay
i’m drinkin’ act’, you drinkin’ morton, boy, that’s the wrong taste
ayy, nice, let’s show these n*ggas how the dog talk
free p, we matched a pint and drunk it all raw
ghetto boyz sh*t, we the reason your b*tch leavin’ work
boy, you a rookie, you ain’t never seen no pink work
itchin’ like a b*tch, i drunk a six and took three percs
drink some red before we pour the act’, we had to rehe*rs*
i hit the dope before i sold it, let auntie see first
i had to stomp on that sh*t to make sure my feet work
in 2012, i was hustlin’, bumpin’ clarity
whoever thought that team east would turn into family?
when i was broke, half the ones i loved barely cared for me
now i’m eatin’, all these motherf*ckers filled with jealousy
that sh*t crazy, ain’t it?
promotin’ domestic violence d*mn near made me famous
but i just want the money out this sh*t, y’all can keep the fame
pop a n*gga in his sh*t and let him keep his chain
[verse 2: nice]
pop a n*gga in his sh*t, don’t let him keep his brain (headshot)
loaded with o’s of the dog and we got ‘caine (get it?)
thousand eight sh*t, i seen my n*ggas k!ll for less (man)
don’t make no guarantees, the only guarantee is death (ayy)
you ain’t never seen bullets hit a n*gga flesh (bah, bah, bah)
five hundred turn a thousand when you sn*tch it off the press (real sh*t)
my clio even rich, they spent thousands on they habit (get it?)
came to the realization that you n*ggas just rappin’ (ah)
two*eighty on the shirt i wear once, then i trash it
so when i say i wiped his nose, i ain’t talkin’ with a napkin
everything but a rapper, dope dealer and assassin
slash b*tch magnet, twenty pints, which cabinet, n*gga? (which one?)
gave him a leg shot, i got tired of askin’ (bah)
gave him a headshot ’cause we left the masses (f*ck)
get the backend, then count it up backwards (thumb through ’em)
when i first stacked ten, i had to double it in action (facts)
made million*dollar spots out them houses that’s abandoned (facts)
had to leave my last b*tch, she was gettin’ too demanding (watch out)
my life set up exactly how i planned it (yeah)
get money, eat, sh*t, sleep, drink four*ounces in fantas (woah)
i buy all my hoes bags, they call me santa
make dog sh*t in your town, then i turn to casper (ghost)
eight in one pop, call it ol’ dirty b*st*rd (ah)
bag just came, let’s see who break it down the fastest, n*gga

- nice lyrics

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