[Intro: Rio Da Yung OG]
(The Coal Cash Collection)
Yeah, n***a, it's Rio
Ghetto Boy shit, n***a, what up, Nuk?
5 shit, n***a, we on the Eastside right now
(Ayo, Cash, I think we got one)

[Verse 1: Rio Da Yung OG]
Foreign shoe wearin’ got my motherfuckin' feet swole
Fell asleep off drank, then I woke up with a three poured
I ain't shot nobody in a minute, bro, my heat cold
I made this lil’ money last Monday, this a week old
N***a should've tucked his chain in, he done got Deebo'd
Don't pull up tryna stunt on us in 'Cat and get it repo'd
Dropped an eight, then another eight, yeah, we repoured
Drunk some lean before we had sеx and fell asleep strokin'
Bro don't ever think bеfore he shoot, he always catchin’ bodies
He can’t never get away with it, he always tell somebody
Left a n***a stankin' down the street, you could smell his body
I don’t wanna cook dope no more, all I sell is Oxys
I don't wanna sift blow no more, all I sell is blues
Unc's spot got a drive-thru line like he sellin' food
Popped dog in fashion, ’fore he died, he seen expensive shoes
I feel like Nuk, bro threw me a bag, man, this bitch a doozy

[Chorus: Nuk & Rio Da Yung OG]
Don't talk about no bag, you only guilty by association
We the reason why the DA stressin' over open cases
Brodie sent fifteen at his head, tried to vegetate him
D get the names and set up lines like he the Yellow Pages
I can fuck a bag up on a Tuesday
Bro, put the fifties with the hundreds, don't confuse me
Girl, don't be fuckin' me like that, you gon' lose me
Bitch, don't be grabbin' me like that, my t-shirt Gucci
[Verse 2: Nuk]
Bitch, it's big money, yeah, we buy pharmaceuticals
Brodie dropped your mans and bought a kit that cost a funeral
You ain't spend twenty on that ice, that shit aluminum
Knew I had a plug, he wrote the price in Roman numerals
I ain't sellin' pants, but I'm the reason why the jeans in
Half after half, I was this close to a kingpin
Blue money make my hoes cream like a sundae
I got bored and put up thirteen thousand on a Monday
I sell food all raw, I ain't talkin' 'bout no sushi
Off the dog, they think I'm Mak-in' how I turn up on a Tuesday
I got n***as on my dick and it's all 'cause of my jeweler
He got guns in his pics, but it's all just an illusion
These n***as ain't no hitters, he took a bar to kill him
I watched the eight-ball evolve, that's the Darwin theory
I'm ridn' in the whip with five chops, I'm not a Harley n***a
All these huns, I leave a blue streak like I got Marty with me

[Chorus: Nuk & Rio Da Yung OG]
Don't talk about no bag, you only guilty by association
We the reason why the DA stressin' over open cases
Brodie sent fifteen at his head, tried to vegetate him
D get the names and set up lines like he the Yellow Pages
I can fuck a bag up on a Tuesday
Bro, put the fifties with the hundreds, don't confuse me
Girl, don't be fuckin' me like that, you gon' lose me
Bitch, don't be grabbin' me like that, my t-shirt Gucci
[Outro: Rio Da Yung OG & Nuk]
I can fuck a bag up on a Sunday morning
No fetti, I be sellin' topside, that's why unky snorin'
Found some different cut for the dog, I don't fuck with Dorman
Your pieces only hit for gas and food, bro just punched a foreign
N***as flashin' with a hundred kit, that lil' six thousand
I'ma run it up 'til me and bro'nem got the big houses
I got real fans, hop on stage and go sign a titty
I can't fuck with dog, he got more paperwork than politicians