16 YEAR OLD DRANK

Album cover art for "16 YEAR OLD DRANK" by Concrete Boys

Concrete Boys

16 YEAR OLD DRANK

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Duration: 3:23

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Lyrics

[Intro: DC2Trill] Yeah, yeah (Phew, phew) Pussy-ass niggas playin' with this shit ('Crete, 'Crete) You know what I'm sayin', nigga (You know it's, 'Crete, 'Crete) Overload in this motherfucker ('Crete), mm, yeah ('Crete, 'Crete) [Verse 1: DC2Trill] Twenty-one, I was broke, now I pull up ridin' Tonka ('Crete) Christmas came late sometimes, nigga, we celebrated Kwanzaa (Jiggy) Met these guys six years ago, but I treat 'em like they made by my mama (Swear) Nigga, this drank sixteen years old, you can sip, but I just had to warn you I paid the tab with a no-look pass, I'm with the smackers, they ready to crash I'm in the game now, but I still had to come in the gym with a mat (Yuh) Concrete Boy to death, Concrete Boy right on my casket (Yuh) I'm the general, bitch, fix your posture and your glasses (Fuck) I'm back up in that mode, I'm finna start spazzin' (Yew, yew, yew) Me and my dog go back and forth (Yew), we not internet like your pussy asses Stand on shit like statues and I do it classy Made that bitch purr, but jacket got fur like it's Camp Lazlo Should've never trusted you hoes (Yew), just let my partner past you (Yew, yew) I got extra rolls (Yew), I keep the bread active, bitch (Yew) [Verse 2: Lil Yachty] And my twin walk shit down (Yew), he'll say I'm an activist (Yew, yew) Sell me what you got (Yew) or never call my phone (Yew, yew) I don't go back and forth with niggas who rent they home (Phew, phew, phew, yew) I don't go back and forth with niggas who rent they whips for music videos (Yew, yew, yew, yew) MVP of the year, I'm always good for give-and-gos (Phew, phew, yew, yew) I'm way too turnt for flashin' guns in videos (Phew, yew, yew, yeah, yeah) The ho so burnt, turned her face to a cinna roll (Phew, phew, yew) Yeah, I'm rockin' that shit in the city, yee (Yew, yew) Lil' man, lil' man, shit on the drop, yee (Yew, yew) I'm on the Wock', yeah, beat it (Yew, yew) Give me that mop, beat it, beat it (Yew, yew) Eyes so red, geeked up, ain't use no drops (Yew, yew, yew) Braids on top of my head, I didn't do locks (Yew, yew, yew, yew) Old-school sittin' on shocks (Phew, yew) The trunk, beat went knocks (Yew, yew) The ho, she good for slop (Phew, yew, yew) The stones, they big like Wop's (Wop) Ask them niggas, they vouch (Yew) It's Boat, I get you slouched Steppin' so hard, I got gout (Yew) If you don't turn her up, she pout, hmm (Phew) You hate, you're broke, you're weak, hmm (Yew) You hate, you still on the couch (Yew, yew) It's us, for sure, no doubt (It's us) DC my twin, no doubt (No bap) They all could get hit with the heat (Huh) In the sheets, say geek, she freaky (Yew, yew) She from London, she eat, she cheeky (Uh) She African, rockin' dashiki, uh (Yew, yew) I'm walkin' in back of the vippy (Yew) On the hip, a grip, a blicky (Yew) On the trip, I'm takin' a ten-piece (Yew) They thick, they wet, they ready (Yew, yew, yew) They ready spaghetti, no 'ghetti (Yew) It's up, I'm Moss, I catch it (Yew) I'm makin' a chain, no budget (Yew) She throwin' it back, I love it (Yew, yew) [Verse 3: Rio Da Yung OG] The way I pour this drank, I need to be studied I pulled up with an eight and walked out with nothin' I pulled up with a Drac', walked out with button Damn, Joe, you hatin' on the youth, I call him Budden, damn Like, what's up Joe? Like, what's up, folk? The way I spit the lingo, it's like I'm from the O But this not O'Block, I got my own block I just fucked your bitch in a pair of Chrome socks Pussy was so good, I ended up with my toes out Started with a stainless steel, now I got a rose watch You ain't seen this AP yet, this one got four clocks Drank thicker than nose snot, pocket thicker than a phonebook He a bitch, was in the feds and got his phone took I got some weed so good, they wanna clone it That Metro Boomin fire, I need a 'bow of it Where the Act'? I need a four of it Ghetto boy, take a half-a-million-dollar car and do donuts I don't smoke weed no more, but I'll smoke some I love what Peezy did, but I got my own money Ran up my own hundreds, ran up my own M's No Diddy, but I oil my gun down so much it won't jam Finna drop a new strand, call it Toe Jam He did a skit, but he brought a bitch and got the ho jammed

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Credits

Writers
  • DC2Trill
  • Lil Yachty
  • Rio Da Yung OG
  • F1LTHY
  • 5Star (Producer)
Producers
  • F1LTHY
  • 5Star (Producer)
Engineer
  • Benjamin Mathews
Mixing Engineer
  • Ignacio Portales
Lyricist
  • DC2Trill
  • Lil Yachty
  • Rio Da Yung OG
  • F1LTHY
  • 5Star (Producer)