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What Up RJ
por
Rio Da Yung OG
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(Ooh, RJ) (Enrgy made this one) What up, RJ? Enrgy, Ghetto Boyz sh*t (B*t*h) What up, Mike? Let's show these n***as how we do it (RJ always trippin', man, RJ always trippin', man) RJ always trippin' Hey, what up, RJ? Unc' mixed the soft with the hard and made a parfait Sippin' on some red while gettin' head by the fireplace My lil' n***a ran off with an egg, we in a car chase Militant with this AR pistol, I'll drop a fly Me and Rio drunk two pints of red, feel like I'm 'bout to die You n***as drinkin' carbonated lean, that sh*t oxidized I picked a pint of Act' over my b*t*h, that's a compromise Withdrawin' on drank and OxyContin, I don't feel alive My b*t*h gon' call my phone in a minute, I think I'm 'bout to lie N***a said I can't f**k his b*t*h, I think I'm 'bout to try I just spilled a deuce of Wock', I think I'm 'bout to cry Almost asked Mike is he strapped? That's a dumb question She asked me was I strapped after I nutted? That's a dumb question Preferably, I hope all y'all die with y'all bum a**es But don't mind what I just said, that's just a suggestion White buffs with the pointers in 'em cost me seven racks Cuz dropped two grams in the pot and brought eleven back I was told f**kin' off them Percs burn belly fat I need two pair of Air Force 1's, I'm bringin' Nelly back Psych, I need all the J's A n***a pa**ed me a blunt of glue and he caught the fade How the f**k we make twenty-five racks and we off today? My doctor pulled up on me unexpected and brought some drank I'm tired of drivin' foreign sh*t, I might walk today B*t*h, I ain't had no codeine, I can't talk today Yesterday, we played a condo, we in the loft today Thirty racks on me, I sold a half a brick of soft today Me, Mike, and Louie need to be on the wall of fame B told on C, you need to be on the wall of shame I'll politely shoot you in your head twice and walk away Can't no n***a in Flint f**k with me if we talking pape' Sandpaper grip on my Glock, walk you down with ease Free my n***a C, real hustler, he was housin' fiends I couldn't even say my ABCs and could pronounce lean Eleven thousand blues on the floor, I gotta count these Damn, now that's some stupid sh*t The Hellcat is basic, boy, you gotta drop coupe the sh*t Knock a n***a out, then slice his neck with a crucifix Takin' pictures f**kin' on your b*t*h, I got proof of it Why you think Baby Ghost quick to shoot? I taught him that The rap scene died in 810, I brought it back Them Perc-30s tried to beat my a**, I fought 'em back B*t*h, I got a hundred racks on me, stop talkin' back Take a b*t*h on vacation to Cali, buy her all the bags She ain't let me f**k, took them b*t*hes back, now she walkin' back B*t*h called me ninety-nine times, I ain't call her back I think I fell in love with a rat, let me fall back Second hardest of the Ghetto Boyz, n***a, free P A n***a try to come to Flint and rap, he gotta see me The tips of my bullets same color as some kiwi Been sh*ttin' for two years straight, it's time for a three-peat Backwood filled with exotic, this one to the face Runnin' out of room for my kicks, I need a bigger place I upped thirty racks on my b*t*h, she ain't have sh*t to say Cuttin' dope in my mama kitchen, gotta ditch the plate This a regular Sprite, drop a deuce of Act', now it's exotic Beat a b*t*h a**, then f**k her raw, I'm mister toxic I got some sh*t in my pocket cover seven years of college Told my young b*t*h I don't eat pu**y I'm on a diet Pa**in' Percs out, I got the whole gang high, I'm the pilot B*t*h, you can't drive the boat, but you can ride it Nine 30s in my system, I think I'm dyin' If you find a Perc' stronger than a blue, I wanna try it
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