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ya father - rx papi lyrics

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[intro]
yuhh
real rx
[verse 1]
n*gga did the beat nice, came straight
i walk in this b*tch with a brick of ‘caine
my daddy sold dope, i feel like cain
i walk in this b*tch like sugar shane
they like “yeah, this the papi that we miss”
“that other n*gga just be popping sh*t”
talk to me crazy, shoot you in your sh*t
can’t leave a witness, shoot you and your b*tch
i use to think my uncle was somebody
had me fooled my whole life, that n*gga a b*tch
my dad sold more dope than ronald raegan
walk in the trap like “let the games begin”
unc been smoking work since i was six
aunty been bugging out on some sh*t
i remember whеn i asked my mom for some cash
my facial exprеssion was sick as a b*tch
i been robbing n*ggas since a baby
i’ll rob a n*gga while he with his baby
white gold cuban, bust down hd
they prayed on my downfall and thet hate me
if i get caught, i ain’t changing sh*t
we all know who’s lips could sink a ship
my aunty so fake, some [?] sh*t
i be on some dirty, grimy, gritty sh*t
y’ain’t gotta f*ck with me or like me
i’m icier than a hoe, so icy
you g*y if you want n*ggas to like you
i sold crack in middle school and high school
shout out my muh’f*cking n*gga [?]
only n*gga sell you thirty dollar beans
i walk in this b*tch like trey jeans
i’m so high i forgot where i put my keys
who the f*ck you talking to?
like what the f*ck you wanna do?
b*tch don’t die cause you off the boot
glock knock a n*gga clean out his boots
they deleted my songs, that was horsesh*t
[?] on the eighth, that’s broke sh*t
i seen yo interview, that sh*t was corny
n*ggas only get views cause they mention me
i’ll walk in this b*tch like h and d
n*gga we don’t play games, we play for keeps
i’ll run a n*gga baby mama over in a jeep
reverse and run that b*tch back over in a jeep
my momma said “baby when the last time you got sleep?”
ion know, my head been f*cking with me
i heard these n*ggas upped they bounty
well i’m strapped, so is every n*gga around me
they say papi, you a f*cking hot head
i’m a pill popper, and i’m a pothead
crack out the cut like “what the f*ck you said?”
said it behind my back, now say it again
n*gga these streets ain’t got no love
i had to pistol whip my own blood
that’s what happen when n*ggas think they tough
glock transform like shia leboeuf
walk in this b*tch like enough is enough
ion like boujie hoes, my b*tch rough
[?] i sold all kinds of stuff
in the trunk, a n*gga a get stuff
you think you the sh*t cause you big and buff
hit em with the glock and fold em up
you better respect yo motherf*cking jaw
glock got four legs on it like a dog
they like “papi, how the f*ck that made sense at all?”
it didn’t but b*tch don’t lie, that was hard
i’m hitman when i’m completing the job
my sh*t hitting like pearl harbour
drake make a n*gga crump in the yard
look like chris brown from stomp the yard
drake leave a n*gga slumped on his car
reload the drake, give em’ a encore
i pick up everytime your aunt call
she don’t like me but that’s still my f*cking dawg
she say she need two fifties of hard
audi pulled up in the front yard
i rap about audis cause i really buy em
when they rap about audis they really lying
these n*ggas broke and don’t got swag
identity crisis looking for a dad
why the f*ck you think they call me pap

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