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hawthorne - rmc mike & rio da yung og lyrics

[intro: rio da yung og]
(it’s a wayne beat)
sh*t, alright
what up, wayne?
ghetto boyz sh*t, you already know what the f*ck goin’ on (southside sh*t)

[verse 1: rio da yung og]
just pulled to somerset and valet parked a quarter million
walked in the louis store and— alright, alright
just pulled to somerset and valet parked a quarter million
walked in the louis store, i just spent a quarter chicken
what you want, a leg, quarter, or a biscuit?
just got a pint, meet me at the headquarters, let’s get filthy
today, i got a bunch of sh*t to do, let’s get busy
just sucked a pregnant b*tch titties, let’s get milky
bought another gucci shirt, it was six*fifty
then walked to somerset and bought a bunch of sh*t with six gifties
she let me swipe every card, let’s get nifty
pour a nine of red in a mountain dew, let’s get p*ssy

[verse 2: rmc mike]
no bullsh*t, my favorite gun is a .308
i just f*cked three rap b*tches, now my peehole stank
that n*gga tried to r*u*n and left doa
cut into a bald*head b*tch like, “let me see your fade”
i just got a glass pint of red, you can keep your drank
told bae, “f*ck a stash, let me see your waist”
withdrawals, i ain’t drunk henn’ in like three whole days
i learned how to stack my chips like frito lays
sh*t ain’t all good or all bad, but i’ll be okay
b*tch tryna leave, hit her with the starlito face
told gary i want my new chain to weigh a kilo weight
i’ve been tourin’ the world makin’ bands, i think we need more states
[verse 3: rio da yung og & rmc mike]
took another pint from a n*gga, i deebo drank
on the east sellin’ hard, where eastside lito stay
b*tch took her shoes off, socks smell like frito lays
d*mn, i shot the house up bad, they gotta relocate
who got some hi*tech? i’m lookin’ for the blood, it’s a mosquito day
b*tch asked where she pullin’ up to, i sent three locations
i stole an opp h*llcat, this a repo day
last show i had, a n*gga got k!lled in there, but we okay
number one displayer, i don’t care what weezbo say
one day, i seen a n*gga lose his life over three ojs
i know they call it sh*t talkin’, but we don’t stank
bro, what the f*ck you smokin’? the weed don’t stank
only words i say to my b*tch is, “please, more drank”
take my shoes off at any b*tch house, my feet don’t stank
you only poured an ounce in that pop, n*gga, we poured eight
i got a dingy b*tch, she’ll listen to anything— huh
i got a dingy b*tch, she’ll listen to anything miss cleo say
decidin’ on if i wanna buy that ‘dweller, give me three more days
off*white with the clan with me, need three more k’s
asked her what she wanna drink, she said, “anything, is skeet okay?”
let me hit my cup
i could have herpes, bet this dumb b*tch still wanna hit the blunt
aa*12 with the scope, this a different pump
he wan’ fight back, f*ck some rock and roll, this a different punk
bought a b*tch a purse for three racks, am i a trick or what?
but i’ma f*ck her, then take it back, i tricked her b*tt
i ain’t even put my nose by her p*ssy, you l!cked her b*tt
i had to drop the b*tch off, you picked her up
i ain’t tryna serve no crackheads, i’m tryna sell a whole brick at once
i can’t lie to lil’ bro, i think this that one
put a bump stock on the glock, i tap the trigger once
pourin’ thick liquid up, boy, you still pourin’ liquor up
seven grams in a backwood, you roll swishers up
okay, you quick to roll dice, we roll pistols up
stone cold with the cut, i could cut a pair of scissors up
bought a drum for my glock 9, it hold fifty*one
gave lil e the four*five, you seen a midget bust?
i’m finna take a green bar, this the bigger bus
dum & dumber 3, i know they sick of us
i just popped a blue inbox, now i’m itchin’ and stuff
can’t go nowhere— alright
we can’t go nowhere— huh, ah
we can’t go nowhere, random people try to take pictures of us
lookin’ at me and mike old fl!cks, that’s the little us
d*mn, my blunt fatter than the b*tch, she got a little b*tt
would you believe me if i told you me and mike ran five*fifty up?
pour a cup of hi*tech and roll riddles up
just crashed the rolls truck, you ain’t never even been in one
mclaren fast as f*ck, in the front is a little trunk
b*tch pulled up with double*ds and got titty*f*cked
when we dropped dumb and dumb3r, f*cked the city up
right now i’m boolin’ with the bloods, f*ck the bity up
drunk two pints of eighteen, we poured a fifty up, n*gga

- rmc mike rio da yung og lyrics

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