lost a person - rio da yung og, rmc mike & grindhard e lyrics
[intro: rio da yung og]
(ooh, sav k!lled it)
alright
i’m back in this, hey, n*gga, i’m back, n*gga, f*ck what y’all n*ggas talkin’ ’bout
alright
[verse 1: rio da yung og]
okay, i’m back, i took a break, it was temporary
i made d*mn near ninety racks off “legendary”
free the ghetto, he’ll be home ’round february
b*tch asked when i’ma spend some time with her, i said, “neveruary”
tryna make a million cash in my itinerary
got some rap money and bought a bunch of artillery
i’m good in every state i go to, these n*ggas scared of me
f*ck a pitbull, b*tch, i’m the dog, be aware of me
too much lean and percocets, got me scared to sleep
hit a b*tch raw, i think she burned me, got me scared to pee
mask on when i start bustin’, it was never me
i think i’m finna rap ninety bars, don’t wanna share the beat
[verse 2: rmc mike]
sixty*five*inch flatscreens sittin’ in every room
sorry, baby, i can’t love you ’cause i married food
white b*tch with some big titties look like betty boop
plr got a gas tube, i’ll let it poot
glock 30 came small as h*ll but mean big business
b*tch started playin’ with my sack, so i hit*sticked her
wocky in my cup, you pourin’ green, it’s a big difference
skate down your block and pop an opp top while i’m kickflippin’
ayy, what up, sdot?
i swear, my white boy sold more dog than a pet shop
i was overdue, she gave me head at the rest stop
gen4 .357, i buy the best glocks
[verse 3: grindhard e]
ridin’ down i*75, just passed big beaver
police got behind me, i hid the pills in the b*tch cleavage
went and picked up a b*tch for nothin’, she was misleadin’
f*cked up in the head, i be happy if i catch a b*tch cheatin’
get the f*ck gone, like, b*tch, beat it
got her comfortable, made her tell me all her deep secrets
told the b*tch that i love her once, but i didn’t mean it
plr with a sh*llcatcher, you can meet jesus
[?] when i go to sleep, i be fightin’ demons
drunk a pint fast, ain’t no more, now it got me fiendin’
fiend got down on me for thirty pills ’cause i didn’t read ’em
told me they was percocets tens, but they was seven*fifties
[verse 4: rio da yung og]
seven hundred blues in my stash spot
red*tipped sh*lls in a black glock
two headshots’ll leave a n*gga flatter than a laptop
sorry to inform you, this ain’t wock’, this an act’ pop
i know i’m gettin’ money, but i act broke
fell asleep in the car for two days, feel like my back broke
my new b*tch pretty and she thicker than crack smoke
i’m d*mn near a millionaire, what i’ma buy a h*llcat for?
[verse 5: rmc mike]
paid the b*tch to f*ck, her p*ssy trash, i want my money back
last week, trael facetimed me with two hundred racks
beat the lining out this b*tch p*ssy, i’m off a hundred*pack
i made ten off [?], bring sunny back
that’s my favorite arab
twenty*two minutes is how long a whole eight last
pablo picasso with this k, we in paint class
f*ck the p*ssy, i just want some head with your stank ass
go down the street you tryna cop some blues, ’cause i’m poppin’ mine
peezy sent the contract i signed on a dotted line
i can never tell my b*tch the truth, but i am not a liar
on the road to riches, want a ride, you gotta buy a tire
my b*tch think i’m stressin’ ’cause i’m chain*smokin’ newports
i burned the ‘cat up at cook park, they need a new court
i’m plugged with the plug, your mans dry, you need a new source
i swear to god, i think i say “b*tch” better than too short
[verse 6: grindhard e]
don’t put no weed on that scale, it’s been dope on it
i don’t even ride past my block, ain’t no hope on it
she ain’t put her mouth, she put her throat on it
b*tch acts too childish to me, she ain’t no woman
auntie used to play with the hard, now she snowblowin’
started trickin’ off last month, d*mn near went broke from it
[?]
the bag ain’t movin’ fast enough, so i’m slow rollin’
clutch runnin’ in and out the crib, who left the door open?
fn bullets fast, leave a n*gga heart in slow*motion
[verse 7: rio da yung og]
okay, i’m ready to go hard, last year was just really practice
pop a n*gga up, then go eat me a philly sandwich
b*tch, i ain’t trickin’ with you, that’s for kids, you silly rabbit
you worried ’bout installations, need to go buy a better mattress
twelve years ago, i was cough syrupin’
i just clocked in the booth, i don’t think i’ll get out ’til thursday
i done bought hoes liquor and plan b, i never bought birkins
twelve lines of drank and six blues, when i walk, i’m swervin’
ain’t no phones in the trap, i can’t talk, i’m servin’
hit the club a hundred deep, i think we lost a person
fancy*ass n*gga, b*tch, i talk in cursive
had her suckin’ d*ck all night, her esophagus hurtin’
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