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lay low (freestyle) - ralfy the plug lyrics

i told the b*tch i’m him, i’m not one of them
when i step up out the house, i got a glock or a fin
if you not an opp wherever in the city, we gotta lock on in
the stinc team got a reputation for not gon’ miss
poured a four of wockhardt, n*gga, not no tris
i’ma go, you can’t impress me with them rocked up tits
i flu flam mini mansions, i’m a knock up kid
i bust on a b*tch face and told her, “watch my kids”
the young n*ggas see the plug like, “i want a watch like his”
that two bands you split five ways is not no l!ck
i was in the county disrespectful, he sockin’ on sh*t
i’m not beefin’, this chip’ll turn his brain to nacho dip
your b*tch gave my chili and cheese, that’s not your b*tch
she said, “thanks for the perky meat, ralfy, i got your gift”
i see your lil’ kennel over there, thеm not no pits
i’m an exotic bulldog with a rottweiler mix
i got a big еgo, that’s why i knocked your b*tch
to the left, to the left, when i’m rockin’ with the crips
some of n*ggas act like it’s wrong for keepin’ it stitched lip
i told her she wasn’t gettin’ no d*ck, she was p*ssed
i told her i can freeze time and put rocks in my wrist
i’m a real street n*gga, i’m not no pretender
i’m on his b*tch bumper, not no fender bender
he the type of n*gga f*ckin’ on gender twisters
“where you get all your moves from, ralfy?” mister mister
my aunt’s callin’ me her favorite son ’cause i’m hittin’ his sister
she was suckin’ too much d*ck, hope you didn’t kiss her
boy, that’s a baby loaf, that is not a stiffler
if the stincs don’t run la, then who richer?
if the plug didn’t spark the biggest fire, then who litter?
man, n*ggas don’t get half the sh*t as me, n*ggas kids to me
i ain’t been the same, since a juvenile, judge sentenced me
i’m a rapper but i’ll pity the fool like mr. t
i’ll have my hamburglars help me cook up instant beef
i’m an ugly n*gga, still crackin’ b*tches with missing t**th
n*gga look like a small fry next to the stincs
i’m a g.o.a.t., so all my b*tches be defendin’ me
watches came with boxin’ capers, got big receipts
every time i step in the field playin’ ball, got different cleats
[?], can you send all these bums to detention, please?
graduated from the school of hard knocks, strippin’ dweebs
and yes, that n*gga on a skateboard is a peep
n*gga ain’t got what i got, ain’t got the watches i bought
you wanna vibe and get some perky meat from the plug, that’s gon’ cost you
i’m a fashion k!ller, every ‘fit is a lawsuit
you don’t want a n*gga like me, i’m gon’ dog you
lookin’ for good perky meat, you know who to call to
in there with the fin, thirty*two rounds, i’ma turn ’em to shark food
they like, “master p in the city”, b*tch, the plug makin’ boss moves
your b*tch would hop on a log and law like a frog do
long as she turnin’ over a loaf, we all cool
that n*gga told and he a b*tch, that’s cool, he ain’t y’alls, though
she like, “you can put your whole d*ck down my throat if you got the b*lls too”
any b*tch that didn’t make the cut gotta join the stalker crew
you can talk money in any language, i’ll talk to you
any n*gga hatin’ on the plug, i’ma keep ballin’ on you
she like, “out of the whole stinc team, no one awesome as you”
conversation with the loafy, i ain’t talkin’ to you
[outro]
nah, for real, no cap
conversation with the loafy, i ain’t talkin’ to you
b*tch, don’t be b*ttin’ in my conversation when i’m talkin’ to ben franklin, jackson and all that
b*tch, we don’t even know you
what your broke*ass say, huh?
what, no? you ain’t talkin’ money?
b*tch, i said it’s money, you just answer, it’s not [?], you do not pick up the phone
it’s a loaf on the floor, see, you gon’ pick it up
yeah, eat that

- ralfy the plug lyrics

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