Flint Boyz

Lyrics

[Intro: Rio Da Yung OG] (Marc Boomin, this you?) Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga Still grindin' shit, nigga (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 nigga 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 nigga hear me say somethin', he gon' pay faster 300K play on floor, that's a pape' package Nigga, every day, I'm 'bout green, fuck St. Patrick I can't believe this nigga 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 niggas 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, nigga, no basket I just bought a Louis duffle, probably don't drag it Still feel like I out-trap all the trappers, nigga, no braggin' Niggas 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