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Off The Chain Lyrics - Artist : Rio Da Yung OG
Oooh Sav killed it
Lemme get my chains right Ghetto boy shit nigga Hey Fuck rap Sike, matter of fact, bitch, I love rap This shit changed my life I been shittin' on niggas so much, you gotta change me twice Three hundred for a line of morton grove, this can't be life At this point it's consent, I don't let the bitch rape me twice He got featured and I dropped it on my page, so he paid me twice My shooter crazy, for the right price, he'll take a baby life Lemme buy the whole pint right now, you want two eighty-five? I was a kid selling grams so that means I live a crispy life I travel anywhere for the drink, you in Ypsi right? I heard dawg that robbed bro got shot fifty times Got some bows for the low-lows, they only fifty-five Man y'all rap niggas comical When it come to beef, I get diabolical Ayy, that pint of blood right there is mine, biological You got your ears and they scared to drive, I'll hire you If you don't put that bitch in cruise, I'ma fire you I'm the nigga who be payin' for the hits, I'll fire two I don't trick, but damn, you kinda thick, you like diamonds boo? My bitch think she gettin' off, but I'm a liar too Don't know my status with my hoe, right now it's complicated Plus I nutted in this other bitch while she was ovualtin' I got some zips for eighteen, but they kinda shaky Promoters get the fuck out my DM if you ain't tryna pay me Like, ayy, get the fuck on He think he tough tone 'cause he got a pair of buffs on Caught him walkin' out of golden sun, now his buffs gone Pop yo' shooter in his forehead, now your muscle gone Pfft, like, he ain't tough no more After niggas get popped up, they ain't rough no more I mix some GG4 in this bow, it ain't Runtz no more I hit that nigga dope so much, it won't take a gram of cut no more When I get behind that mic, bitch I'm unhuman In the old school with old hundreds but my gun newer It's two hundred of these bitches, watch me thumb through 'em I got a twenty-pack of za's, watch me run through it He don't really call shots, he a pump faker Tell your bitch don't pull up actin' tough, we'll jump Caleb How you a killer, nigga? Back in church you was a drum player Call Irv, I got one seventy-five I need that one taper Yeah you know, ninety degrees, hundred eighty for, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout You know what I'm saying, two hundred dollar haircuts Y'all can't fuck with me Ghetto boy shit nigga |
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