3zzy & Rio Da Yung OG
Scuba Dance
[Intro: 3zzy]
Yeah (2Raw)
Ayy
They like, "3zzy got that"— yeah
He got super bands
Ayy, ayy

[Verse 1: 3zzy]
They like, "3zzy got that dog shit on him, he got super bands"
Hold on, let me put the Drac' down, do my Skuba dance
Don't let lil' bro get off a Perky, he turn to Superman
I ain't from the D, but fuck it, Siri, locate Coochie Land
Them n***as said they known for shootin', but then his shooter ran
Like FN had that ollie in him, cuh got stupid hands
If you known for suckin' and fuckin', I'll be your only fan
Get rich off OnlyFans, hit the road, and I know some scams
Stock it up and go and hit Neimans, we could blow a ten
N***as talkin' pape', but they cappin', n***a, show it then
Like five hundred, ten or four, I bеt bro roll a ten
Only bosses 'round my round table, so you won't fit in
I'll probably throw that shit on my wrist bеfore I cop a Benz
You bitch n***as steady coppin' pleas, come cop a stick
By Sunday, we can bet the Steelers win or that I knock your bitch
And I don't rock designer jeans, baby, 'cause my Glock don't fit
Big dog, I know I'm gon' win, cocky and confident
I'm startin' to think this money grow on trees the way we got this shit
In traffic to the neck with the Glock, fuck your politics
In your hood drivin' through slow and n***as not on shit
I don't want your ho, been had the bitch
Bougie bitch say she hate me, but she love the dick
From the socks to the hat, did you peep the 'fit?
Fat 36 with the stock, I don't need the stick
Fuck him right where he stand, Drakey leave the bitch
Before I ever tell on my mans, cuh, I plead the Fifth
Walk-downs in broad day, here, eat the clip
N***a, eat the clip, here, go'n, eat the clip
[Verse 2: Rio Da Yung OG]
I ain't buyin' at all, but I got dog, and I keep a stick
But listen here, if the feds come, baby, we legit
Lou' just poured another pint out, damn, I need to quit
Matter fact, no, I don't, I'm trippin', bro, I need to sip
Real n***a, wanna see us all win, got twenty-three assists
The Yung OG don't fear no man, I met the reaper, bitch
I might pull up in a Grand Am tryna sweep some shit
Dope man, hundred grams of raw, but fifty-three was hit
So that's forty-seven G's of cut
In LA tryna find a stick, I hit 3zzy up
He pulled up tryna drop shit, I don't need to bust
Guarantee I take a n***a head off when that evil bust
Jump on a plane with twenty 'bows of weed, tryna test my luck
Don't go waste your money tryna buy a vest, I'm shootin' neck and up
Fat bitch sent me a picture in her panties, tryna set me up
Ain't nobody tryna fuck your fat ass with your naked butt
Dropped an AP off to Hutch, flower set it up
Bitch, I drink so much lean, I think I'm finna flower, send my cup
Hundred racks for a lean belly, we got expensive guts
Three hundred dollars for a lineup, I got a different cut
Alright, let me switch it up
When the pistol bust, n***as hit the ground, someone come pick 'em up
Dog pulled up in a Scat', it got riddled up
My n***a photobombed, stood behind with twenties, fucked my—
My n***a photobombed, pulled out some twenties, fucked my picture up
N***a, I just popped lid, so we shot the hospital up
Glock 27 on my hip, yeah, the little one
This ain't the same roll from yesterday, this a different one