More songs by Rio Da Yung Og
Description
Producer: Sav
Composer: Sav
Lyricist: Da'mario Donshay Horne-McCullough
Lyrics and translation
Original
Yeah, ghetto. Ghetto, yeah, my high.
What the fuck going on? We just jumped off a PJ. We had five black BP ESVs getting off the
E-way, like right on Bristol Road at the Speedway. First thing we did is went on
Clyde Road 'cause we need drink. Bitch, I'ma stand on business till my feet stink.
He not a real syrup sipper, bro, that's weed drink, THC drink.
Like, where that nigga at? I bet he sleeping, ain't he?
They already gave me money for a verse, but they repaid me. Real shit, the feds didn't make me worse, they just remade me.
I came straight home and had three babies.
She don't never get up when I say, "I gotta skeet, baby. " That's kinda- that's kinda evil, ain't it?
They sprayed too much terps on the shit, so the weed was tainted.
Remember when they had that white shit, looked like the weed was painted.
Just gave the bitch five hundred dollars for a weave payment. Damn, I ain't know you can pay on. . .
Of course I seen what the text message said, it's gon' stay on read.
Known for fucking hoes quick and then making them leave. She talking about I don't trick, but I just paid for weave.
Like, I had to get your hair did.
That bitch got a wagon on her, so her chair big. She got a different chair. A nigga fucked my bitch and I didn't care.
You know how many niggas' hoes I'm finna hit this year?
Matter of fact, I might not even hit shit this year. All turnt and shit.
I just had a famous bitch and got a burnt dick, but it was worth it. We just jumped off a PJ.
We had five black BP ESVs getting off the E-way, like right on Bristol Road at the Speedway.
First thing we did is went on Clyde Road 'cause we need drink.
Bitch, I'ma stand on business till my feet stink. He not a real syrup sipper, bro, that's weed drink, THC drink.
Like, where that nigga at? I bet he sleeping, ain't he?
I love how her body shaped, that shit perfect, but her ass kinda stiff, she can't twerk it. She got a BBL.
We was talking in advantage mode on Instagram, but I kinda like the bitch, so we went to the next step, she getting a Gmail.
Like, we ain't wanna get slammed, send an email.
If it ain't no response in seventy-two hours, then that shit dead.
He said the hoe was talking about me, what the bitch said? White laces everywhere, I got on Rick pants.
Lululemon pants, she got thick legs. The bitch waist small, but she got big pants.
Just dab me up, brodie, I don't wanna touch your dick head.
This shit real, you wanna fuck me, you need a wristband. I'm finna do some damage, boy, this lil RP just kicked in.
Well, I took ten. He got a one in Quaker and then a twenty-ounce pop, that shit look thin.
You know you gotta go three or better.
This bitch pussy so good, I don't think nothing better. I just felt the wind breeze, damn, I need to sweat. M-I-N-E, we getting
Rico, we use three letters. You know the FBI is the biggest gang.
I ain't got no gun, but I made a call and a pistol came.
A nigga put his hands on me, then a little nigga came. He hanging out the sunroof from the corner, he got terrific aim.
That nigga shot up close and didn't hit a thing. He had a.
308, a hundred yards away, that nigga hit a brain. He a fucking sniper.
Man, that nigga so young, he need a fucking diaper. This bitch pussy just made a bucket water.
Pussy so good, I might hit her in front of her daughter. Why the fuck I ask for sexy red number and
I never call? If Trish got eight percent alcohol, am I an alcoholic?
English translation
Yeah, ghetto. Ghetto, yeah, my high.
What the fuck going on? We just jumped off a PJ. We had five black BP ESVs getting off the
E-way, like right on Bristol Road at the Speedway. First thing we did is went on
Clyde Road 'cause we need drink. Bitch, I'ma stand on business till my feet stink.
He not a real syrup sipper, bro, that's weed drink, THC drink.
Like, where that nigga at? I bet he sleeping, ain't he?
They already gave me money for a verse, but they repaid me. Real shit, the feds didn't make me worse, they just remade me.
I came straight home and had three babies.
She don't never get up when I say, "I gotta skeet, baby. " That's kinda- that's kinda evil, ain't it?
They sprayed too much terps on the shit, so the weed was tainted.
Remember when they had that white shit, looked like the weed was painted.
Just gave the bitch five hundred dollars for a weave payment. Damn, I ain't know you can pay on. . .
Of course I seen what the text message said, it's gon' stay on read.
Known for fucking hoes quick and then making them leave. She talking about I don't trick, but I just paid for weave.
Like, I had to get your hair did.
That bitch got a wagon on her, so her chair big. She got a different chair. A nigga fucked my bitch and I didn't care.
You know how many niggas' hoes I'm finna hit this year?
Matter of fact, I might not even hit shit this year. All turnt and shit.
I just had a famous bitch and got a burnt dick, but it was worth it. We just jumped off a PJ.
We had five black BP ESVs getting off the E-way, like right on Bristol Road at the Speedway.
First thing we did is went on Clyde Road 'cause we need drink.
Bitch, I'ma stand on business till my feet stink. He not a real syrup sipper, bro, that's weed drink, THC drink.
Like, where that nigga at? I bet he sleeping, ain't he?
I love how her body shaped, that shit perfect, but her ass kinda stiff, she can't twerk it. She got a BBL.
We was talking in advantage mode on Instagram, but I kinda like the bitch, so we went to the next step, she getting a Gmail.
Like, we ain't wanna get slammed, send an email.
If it ain't no response in seventy-two hours, then that shit dead.
He said the hoe was talking about me, what the bitch said? White laces everywhere, I got on Rick pants.
Lululemon pants, she got thick legs. The bitch waist small, but she got big pants.
Just dab me up, brodie, I don't wanna touch your dick head.
This shit real, you wanna fuck me, you need a wristband. I'm finna do some damage, boy, this lil RP just kicked in.
Well, I took ten. He got a one in Quaker and then a twenty-ounce pop, that shit look thin.
You know you gotta go three or better.
This bitch pussy so good, I don't think nothing better. I just felt the wind breeze, damn, I need to sweat. M-I-N-E, we getting
Rico, we use three letters. You know the FBI is the biggest gang.
I ain't got no gun, but I made a call and a pistol came.
A nigga put his hands on me, then a little nigga came. He hanging out the sunroof from the corner, he got terrific aim.
That nigga shot up close and didn't hit a thing. He had a.
308, a hundred yards away, that nigga hit a brain. He a fucking sniper.
Man, that nigga so young, he need a fucking diaper. This bitch pussy just made a bucket water.
Pussy so good, I might hit her in front of her daughter. Why the fuck I ask for sexy red number and
I never call? If Trish got eight percent alcohol, am I an alcoholic?