1v1
(Energy made this one)
What up, Energy?
What up, Lil Boat?
Shit, alright
I got long money, bitch
Ain't nobody give me shit, I got my own money, bitch
Yachty pulled up in the 'Rari with the chrome on him, bitch
Been spendin' money since the day I got ahold of the shit
Chrome Hearts shirts, AMIRI jeans with the rips in 'em
Jetfire Glocks, extended clips, shit'll get ignant
"Rio, why your pop look like that?" It's a six in it
Don't be steppin' 'round my kitchen by the oven, it's a brick in it
Plain AP on my wrist, it's a brick on me
Damn she cute and she thick, I'll trick on it
Walkin' through the Valley with my stick on me
Baby girl, these is not McQueens, these Rick Owens
Wait 'til my bitch daddy go to sleep, hit a lick on him
He soft, back in the day my daddy took a half a brick from him
Movin' 'round six cars deep like it's a hit on me
Hundred round drum on the AR, I'm tryna hit somethin'
I'll march to Flint for a pint of Act'
And as long as it prints, we gon' get the racks
Grindhard E put up them hoes, call him Midget Mac
I'll really get a nigga gone, this ain't this or that
I ain't tryna argue on no phone, goin' tit-for-tat
My old bitch bad, I love her body, it's tats on her tit
Used to tote ARs, now a nigga tote the Sig now
Downtown Detroit, my phone trippin', ain't no signal
Used to be a jit but I grew up, yeah, I'm big now
My brother bust a wig down, my first crib was a penthouse
On my own, I was eighteen
Boat and Rio, goddamn, we the A-team
And I love this lil' bitch, this bitch Asian
And she never gon' get old, never aging
Puttin' numbers on his head like I'm Nick Saban
Like it's 2030, pull up with a ray beam
Opps say they want cancer, let's have a smoke out
The pop kinda taste nasty, shoulda poured some more out
Today I got on so much ice, I could've brought my coat out
They like, "Rio the goat, this nigga really brought Lil Boat out"
Told Yachty we might have to run, I got some dope on me
Took him on a high speed in Flint, that shit be fun to me
Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, it's a gun on me
You better have two hundred shots and one chop if you come for me
In the crib by myself, hundred racks keep me company
Bitch, if your credit score ain't high, you ain't touchin' me
Just hit this bitch raw and hit it in her, now she stuck with me
Niggas bringin' tens and twenties out, I got a buck with me
Bitch, your baby daddy still can't fuck with me
Made eighty racks yesterday, but I put up fifty
Yachty pulled up with the hoes, he got a whole tour bus with him
Bitch, I ain't got crabs, Percs and Lortabs got my nuts itchin'
I'm a big tripper
No I ain't your BD, I don't wear jeans with several zippers
Twenty-three chains 'round my neck, it's the Big Dipper
VS1 diamonds everywhere, wet like Flipper
Fucked my white bitch so good she almost said nigga
Right then and there we almost put a hole in her liver
Two up, I seen my brother hit some hoes off Tinder
Fucked up, pour a six of Wock' in someone else's blender
Bro'nem will serve anybody, no matter gender
Pray I make it up to Heaven, know I'm a sinner
Pray they never catch me lackin'
You gon' have to hit me where I stand, ain't no jackin'
Fifty-five hundred dollars cash on my jacket
Fourteen forty-nine charge for my ratchet
What up, Energy?
What up, Lil Boat?
Shit, alright
I got long money, bitch
Ain't nobody give me shit, I got my own money, bitch
Yachty pulled up in the 'Rari with the chrome on him, bitch
Been spendin' money since the day I got ahold of the shit
Chrome Hearts shirts, AMIRI jeans with the rips in 'em
Jetfire Glocks, extended clips, shit'll get ignant
"Rio, why your pop look like that?" It's a six in it
Don't be steppin' 'round my kitchen by the oven, it's a brick in it
Plain AP on my wrist, it's a brick on me
Damn she cute and she thick, I'll trick on it
Walkin' through the Valley with my stick on me
Baby girl, these is not McQueens, these Rick Owens
Wait 'til my bitch daddy go to sleep, hit a lick on him
He soft, back in the day my daddy took a half a brick from him
Movin' 'round six cars deep like it's a hit on me
Hundred round drum on the AR, I'm tryna hit somethin'
I'll march to Flint for a pint of Act'
And as long as it prints, we gon' get the racks
Grindhard E put up them hoes, call him Midget Mac
I'll really get a nigga gone, this ain't this or that
I ain't tryna argue on no phone, goin' tit-for-tat
My old bitch bad, I love her body, it's tats on her tit
Used to tote ARs, now a nigga tote the Sig now
Downtown Detroit, my phone trippin', ain't no signal
Used to be a jit but I grew up, yeah, I'm big now
My brother bust a wig down, my first crib was a penthouse
On my own, I was eighteen
Boat and Rio, goddamn, we the A-team
And I love this lil' bitch, this bitch Asian
And she never gon' get old, never aging
Puttin' numbers on his head like I'm Nick Saban
Like it's 2030, pull up with a ray beam
Opps say they want cancer, let's have a smoke out
The pop kinda taste nasty, shoulda poured some more out
Today I got on so much ice, I could've brought my coat out
They like, "Rio the goat, this nigga really brought Lil Boat out"
Told Yachty we might have to run, I got some dope on me
Took him on a high speed in Flint, that shit be fun to me
Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, it's a gun on me
You better have two hundred shots and one chop if you come for me
In the crib by myself, hundred racks keep me company
Bitch, if your credit score ain't high, you ain't touchin' me
Just hit this bitch raw and hit it in her, now she stuck with me
Niggas bringin' tens and twenties out, I got a buck with me
Bitch, your baby daddy still can't fuck with me
Made eighty racks yesterday, but I put up fifty
Yachty pulled up with the hoes, he got a whole tour bus with him
Bitch, I ain't got crabs, Percs and Lortabs got my nuts itchin'
I'm a big tripper
No I ain't your BD, I don't wear jeans with several zippers
Twenty-three chains 'round my neck, it's the Big Dipper
VS1 diamonds everywhere, wet like Flipper
Fucked my white bitch so good she almost said nigga
Right then and there we almost put a hole in her liver
Two up, I seen my brother hit some hoes off Tinder
Fucked up, pour a six of Wock' in someone else's blender
Bro'nem will serve anybody, no matter gender
Pray I make it up to Heaven, know I'm a sinner
Pray they never catch me lackin'
You gon' have to hit me where I stand, ain't no jackin'
Fifty-five hundred dollars cash on my jacket
Fourteen forty-nine charge for my ratchet
Credits
Writer(s): Marlon Lafayette Jr Brown, Damario Donshay Horne Mccullough
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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