No Hook Rio Da Yung OG

[Intro]
Yeah
Ghetto Boyz shit, you know what the fuck going on
Shit on the floor
(Marc Boomin, this you?)
Free the ghetto, nigga, we still on that nigga
Y'all niggas can't fuck with us
Yeah
(Boomin need extras)

[Verse]
Everybody got three chains on
Everybody got a thang on 'em, think you robbin' who?
Take a chunk out his head, that's what the chop do
Pull to the hood, count the money up, alright I gotta scoot
Got a hundred racks on the floor, like we about to shoot
Middleman and bought a Presi' off a hundred pounds of glue
Got a bow' for thirteen, sold the bitch for twenty-two
Swiped the watch for thirty racks, sold it back for twenty too
Bitch, I'm a real hustler
In a 2020 'Vette, it look like mustard
Yea I was fucking both of them, and they like cousins
Nodding off every thirty minutes, cause the sprite muddy
I'm off a blue thirty, two chains and one watch, that's two birdies
Sixty racks for the kit, so that's two thirties
Caught a body broad day, it was 2:30, I had two 30s
You better move swift
Cause we got another Glock, and bought a new switch
So many rounds in thirty seconds, I had two clips
Keep it on me everyday, ain't on no lose shit
Three chains and ain't signed, on my Lou shit
Fucking with the Fetty Wap, I got a blue brick
Finna make another M, I got the blueprint
Stepped on a whole brick of soft and left the shoe
Clip longer than a pool stick
I'm finna buy a eighty carat diamond bracelet
Pour six in a twenty ounce pop, I wanna taste it
Get three pops out a pint, I'll waste it
Stop putting your Sky Dweller in the camera 'fore I take it
Yeah I still be on that one shit
I still pop pop pop, 'til the gun click
I'm Mr. pull up on the scene with a hun' strip
Glock got a drum clip, beating cases like a drumkit
Missed out on twenty racks cash, I was rushing
Flipped out and beat my bitch ass, it was for nothing
Nigga go against the mob, giving free smoke, want a blunt lit?
I done fucked her and her friend on a drunk tip
Mike ridin' with some shit make a bus flip
Bumped into a opp going to Hutch getting my buffs fixed
Every time I pick your hoe up, she gon' suck dick
Bitch prolly talkin' 'bout me to her friends, cause I bust quick
I just bought another handgun
Before we fucked with the blues, had a tan run
Caught a opp at Home Depot, hit him with a nail gun
She gon' let the Yung OG fuck to get her nails done
Just got into a fight with my sell, and the scale won
They tried to initiate me in the cartel, I got a bale gone
Big bro went to the feds and he had the best cell-phone
Made a hunnid' racks on house arrest and I was basically in jail at home, nigga
So I don't really wanna hear excuses
You can do what the fuck you want, if you wanna do it
You ain't never hear me mad at a nigga that ain't fuck with my music
Everybody got pape' 'n jewelry, you don't know who rap, man it's so confusing
I get real love.. I heard the opps at the party, I'mma still come
Y'all was buying air cartridges, ah-ha, I had a real gun
Hope big cuz' get an appeal, he had a pill run