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Million Dolla Mouthpiece - Real recognize Rio Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: R real recognize rio | Published: 2024-30-09T02:34:33:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Million Dolla Mouthpiece - Real recognize Rio Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Million Dolla Mouthpiece - Real recognize Rio Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton R real recognize rio. Dengan chord yang disajikan, pemula atau penggemar musik dapat dengan mudah memainkan lagu ini dengan gitar mereka sendiri. Kami menyajikan chord dengan akurasi tinggi sehingga pemain dapat mengikuti alunan musiknya dengan baik. Juga, kami akan memberikan informasi tambahan mengenai lirik lagu dan mungkin beberapa tips untuk menyempurnakan permainan gitar. Konten ini cocok untuk penggemar musik yang ingin belajar lagu baru atau bagi mereka yang ingin menikmati kesenangan bermain musik dengan gitar. Silahkan disimak Million Dolla Mouthpiece - Real recognize Rio Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[intro]
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ayy
ayy, ayy, pew, pew, pew, pew (ayy, this dee low with then 808s?)
yeah, yeah, look (dee low, where you get them 808s? them b*tches hot)

[verse 1]
i’m tired of this chain, ’bout to go and buy another one
my main b*tch, ’cause her friend, i’ve been f*ckin’ her, i f*ck ’em and i’m duckin’
on god, these pity ass hoes ain’t sh*t, so i hope you ain’t trustin’ ’em
ain’t sh*t either, so i can’t be mad at ’em
n*gga throwin’ shots, i’ma throw somethin’ back at him
y’all n*ggas rupaul, triple going overhaul
one foot on they neck, another foot on the gas pedal
money gettin’ long, i can get a n*gga touched now
n*gga still sleepin’ on the kid, put the cup down
triple r, zone 6, n*gga like to touchdown
rollie watch bust down, ho wanna f*ck now
heard you still stayin’ with the b*tch, gettin’ kushed out
you ain’t pass sh*t, so she quick to put your stuff out
broke ass n*gga usin’ wifi at your buddy house
ain’t got nowhere to go, so now you sleepin’ on your buddy couch

[chorus]
million dollar mouthpiece, y’all n*ggas talk sh*t
triple gon’ pop that sh*t, ayy
n*ggas know what’s up with me, you know that you can’t f*ck with me
you might as well cut off your d*ck
shots hit his car and they cut off his whip
i heard what you said, i’ma cut off your lips
your b*tch p*ssy good, i’ma nut off the rip
shut a n*gga block down, get the f*ck off the strip, ayy
[verse 2]
somebody call elliot, i need me some heavy sh*t
diamonds in my watch that’s like elvis presley
triple got his blade in the club like wesley
swervin’ in the demon, d*mn near hit a pedestrian
triple r gang, prices lower than a mexican
triple fat n*gga, but get flyer than a pelican
ride a foreign truck, i’m in the front like an elephant
countin’ dirty money, but i’m fresher than a peppermint
every pocket buff, i don’t need a pair of cartier
they slow my young boy in the club, end up 38
i heard he still hatin’ on a n*gga and he 48
n*gga probably mad ’cause i skeeted in his daughter face
walkin’ wells fargo, b*tch, i got the bank on me
popeye, cleaner than a b*tch, ain’t a stain on me
million dollar n*gga with no watch or no chain on me
n*gga throwin’ shots at the kid, put a name on it

[interlude]
p*ssy
yeah, n*gga, put a name on that sh*t, n*gga
stop talkin’ all that sh*t, n*gga, you comin’ sideways, come direct, n*gga
i ain’t gon’ see that sh*t, you feel what i’m sayin’? haha
scary ass n*gga, b*tch, triple in this motherf*cker, n*gga
bring that motherf*cker back in, yeah, ayy
[chorus]
million dollar mouthpiece, y’all n*ggas talk sh*t
triple gon’ pop that sh*t
n*ggas know what’s up with me, you know that you can’t f*ck with me
you might as well cut off your d*ck
shots hit his car and they cut off his whip
i heard what you said, i’ma cut off your lips
your b*tch p*ssy good, i’ma nut off the rip
shut a n*gga block down, get the f*ck off the strip

[verse 3]
yeah, triple mr. t in this b*tch rockin’ thirty chains
i ain’t got a mohawk, waves all in my fade
mj slam, dunk your b*tch, then fadeaway
triple gang n*gga got the juice like minute maid
y’all n*ggas b*tches, trippin’ ’cause you got a pistol
when i see you, i’ma up the steel on you, n*gga, anyways
triple ain’t sh*t, life rich, homie
but the way i’ve been sh*ttin’ on ’em make these p*ssy n*ggas feel the way
coco that fresh, i get dressed in the cash
i’m dressin’ and all my pockets full of sacks
got tricks on my fleece, i’m like inspector gadget
your n*gga ride d*ck for money, he a f*ggot
have fans that’ll ask for lease inside the rover
this b*tch was too little for me, i couldn’t wear it
i gotta watch what i say around these n*ggas
they say what they heard, remind me of a parrot
your money ’bout short as a midget
how you gon’ beef with me, n*gga? won’t pay you attention
won’t give you no free promotion, triple just gon’ look over you, i won’t even give you a mention
i’m ridin’ with a thick b*tch, but she bad as a motherf*cker, i might give her a whipping
pockets fat as a big b*tch, i ain’t talkin’ ’bout pressure, but triple be chasin’ the chicken
[chorus]
million dollar mouthpiece, y’all n*ggas talk sh*t
triple gon’ pop that—
godd*mn, sh*t over with already?

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