[Intro: Rio Da Yung OG]
(Marc Boomin, this you?)
Ghetto Boyz shit, n***a
Still grindin' shit, n***a
(Boomin need extras)

[Verse 1: Rio Da Yung OG]
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 n***a down in a Bape jacket
And I hit all my hoes raw, bro, I hate Magnums
[Verse 2: RMC Mike]
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 n***a hear me say somethin', he gon' pay faster
300K play on floor, that's a pape' package
N***a, every day, I'm 'bout green, fuck St. Patrick
I can't believe this n***a 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 n***as broke like they hate havin' it
I'm up some dog shit, I can't go broke, I got eight habits

[Verse 3: Louie Ray]
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, n***a, no basket
I just bought a Louis duffle, probably don't drag it
Still feel like I out-trap all the trappers, n***a, no braggin'
N***as probably dress like they pop and get no action
[Verse 4: Rio Da Yung OG]
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

[Outro: Rio Da Yung OG]
Man, come on, bro, that ain't enough
I mean, I need some more beat, bro