Flint Boyz - Rio Da Yung OG, Louie Ray, Rmc Mike

Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga

Still grindin' shit, nigga

(Boomin need extras)

In the hood right now with a hundred on me

Four chains on now, why you lookin' at me?

In the drop-head Benz with the—

Ahh, alright

I'm in the drop-head Benz with the Honey Badger

I'll jump out this pretty bitch and get to bustin' at you

There go the car, I'm finna throw a whole hundred at it

My bitch bad, plus I get cash, I got a hundred habits

I tried to chase him, he was runnin' like a fuckin' rabbit

I made a statement with the switch, fully automatic

I dropped eighty in his whip, caught him out in traffic

Then he almost hit a pole, I tried to make him crash it

Bitch, suck the dick or somethin', that'll make me happy

Got an old pint of Hi-Tech, it came in the plastic

Walk in my kitchen, I got six eights in the cabinet

I need some resin 'cause I got a brick play Saturday

I just walked a nigga down in a Bape jacket

And I hit all my hoes raw, bro, I hate Magnums

I got a talent, I can shoot a .308 backwards

I just bought a rose-gold presi', now I hate platinum

Zip my hoodie up and gun you down in a Bape jacket

Bitch body natural as hell, but her face plastic

Get up and get this shit on my own 'cause I hate askin'

Once a nigga hear me say somethin', he gon' pay faster

300K play on floor, that's a pape' package

Nigga, every day, I'm 'bout green, fuck St. Patrick

I can't believe this nigga tryna stunt in some fake glasses

Got the world tryna steal our style, now I hate rappin'

I just fucked an Instagram model, had to tape that one

Ri gave me a lil' blue pill like, "Here, take that one"

I know the way I put that shit on make you hate fashion

Told bro to grab a six of Wock' out the gray cabinet

Every time I see my opps, them niggas broke like they hate havin' it

I'm up some dog shit, I can't go broke, I got eight habits

Best watch in your showcase, I'll take that one

Alright, okay, yeah

The best watch in your showcase, I'll take that one

From the streets to the rap a hard turn, how you make that one?

Deuce of Trish, a lil' four of Wock', finna break balance

Naw, I don't see you gettin' this far, but you got talent

You got the Off-Whites on I like to rock, bro, I gotta grab 'em

Always keep a scale around too, boy, I gotta have it

Too much of this in one pop, nasty, this is no casket

If my car clean like I'm dead, this is no casket

Pull up, serve you a quarter or two, nigga, no basket

I just bought a Louis duffle, probably don't drag it

Still feel like I out-trap all the trappers, nigga, no braggin'

Niggas probably dress like they pop and get no action

Thought he was a stepper, we just toe-tagged him

Why you talkin' 'bout my chain? Let your ho ask me

Seven hundred horses in the 'Cat, finna blow past 'em

I just made a hundred racks sellin' blow packages

Eight hundred for a line, bitch, this Actavis

Palm Angel hoodie fifteen hundred, but I'm grabbin' it

If the bitch ass look fake, then I'm grabbin' it

Grab a bitch by her ankles when I'm stabbin' it

Man, come on, bro, that ain't enough

I mean, I need some more beat, bro