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Who Made This - Rio da Yung Og Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: R rio da yung og | Published: 2024-01-10T09:32:16:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Who Made This - Rio da Yung Og Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Who Made This - Rio da Yung Og Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton R rio da yung og. 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 Who Made This - Rio da Yung Og Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[intro]
who made this?
this b*tch hard as h*ll
alright
let me see that thirty right there

[verse]
ooh, i finally got the itch i’m lookin’ for
move, b*tch, don’t get too close, four*nickel blow
real drankhead, dropped a deuce of wock’ and had to l!ck the floor
e, where the drank? he talkin’ ’bout he don’t bust scripts no more
e, where the f*ck is the drank at?
forty*eight hundred for a pint, i can pay that
nowadays, n*ggas cuttin’ lean, let me weigh that
they ask me why i’m always in flint, that’s where i stay at
crowd of n*ggas tried to jump on me, where my k at?
yeah, it’s with a k, dumbass
he thought he bought a twelve, but it’s just an eight, dumbass
the opps should’ve been some running backs ’cause they run fast
in a 750 bimmer, red seats with the run*flats
make the shotty feel automatic ’cause i pump fast
honestly, i need the percocets ’cause i f*ck fast
you’d probably cut some green with your bum ass
i’ll probably hit the scene with a hun’ cash
i just counted seventy racks up with my son cash
b*tch, back up, you can’t get no d*ck with your drunk ass
make a n*gga turn into flash when the gun flash
r*t*rded*ass boy, you was probably in that one class
this a 550 benz, that’s a 4matic
fiend only had twelve dollars, i threw the dope at him
i probably got some wockhardt, you see me at [?]
ugly n*gga, hundred k in jewelry on and my fro nappy
see? i can say the same sh*t and switch it up
caught him at the mall, up the stick, he start b*tchin’ up
skub was sleep, then we bumped into some opps, he start gettin’ up
so much wock’, it taste like i just poured a pint of liquor up
crop that n*gga out that fl!ck, he f*cked my picture up
i’m a fiend, i see you itchin’, i’ma think you took a percocet
f*ck the blues, i think the rp*30s work the best
unc smoke swishers, but the weed he got’ll hurt your chest
i’m a pro at drinkin’ hi*tech and i can work the tec
oh, you was was goin’ to the store to get some ‘woods? bring a squirt back
i make money off of rap, but i might bring sellin’ work back
made a hundred racks in the chi and i can merch that
i pray to god they bring some actavis cough syrup back
you cannot trust any b*tch, i had to learn that
four*nick spit and burn a n*gga top, i can perm that
why sign a deal for a half a mil’ when i can earn that?
just cooked a zip of b*tter, i gotta churn that
now i’m in baton rouge askin’ n*ggas where the sherm at
i need a dirty project b*tch, where a germ at?
oh, you dropped a mixtape? i ain’t heard that
i had a bad b*tch, but had to cut her off, she take birdbaths
smokey ran off with a zip, where big worm at?
smoke you while i’m chillin’ with my b*tch, you took a dirt nap
i think i’m tryna buy a dog, call curt back
n*gga, i do not want no green, where the purp’ at?
f*ck it, i’ll drink some plain promethazine, where a perc’ at?
baby, i’m tryna f*ck in church, wear a skirt, bet
don’t pull your p*ssy out when i’m off percs, i’ll hurt that
pull a stupid dog beat up, i’ll murk that
n*gga got some skinny*ass jeans, but his shirt fat
all*white off*white jeans, but the shirt black
hold on, cut the beat off, bro, you heard that?
oh, i thought a n*gga tried to kick the door down
f*ck the inside of the crib up with the four*pound
compressor on the chop, it don’t make no sound
you can’t even hold your titties up, how you gon’ hold me down?
b*tch, put the p*ssy up and come blow me down
i don’t sell dope, but i rap and it’s some ‘bows around
i can’t believe you cuffed her, she a throw*around
you the type of n*gga come around askin’ is some hoes around? n*gga

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