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almighty slime & rio da yung og - 2 lips lyrics

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[intro: rio da yung og]
(ooh, sav k!lled it)
yeah

[verse 1: rmc mike]
b+tch suckin’ d+ck so good, can’t take the phone call
woke up and put on burberry, i took vlone off
ain’t with no baby from the trenches, i’m my own boss
f+cked her, dismissed her for a week, i know the ho lost
hey, what up, my n+gga tonio?
you gon’ die the day after tomorrow, f+ck romeo
paid sixteen hundred for some sandals, they was open+toed
unc’ was the f+cking brick man before he got on parole
y’all might think i’m lying, but this some true sh+t
caught a body, ooh, sh+t, now i’m eatin’ some ruth’s chris
you the type to talk about a n+gga, but never do sh+t
lay a hand on da yung og, gon’ get your crew hit

[verse 2: almighty slime]
ooh, sh+t, shorty suck like she got new lips
and her ass real, but the b+tch got some new tits
f+ck an outback, b+tch, i want me some ruth’s chris
slide on a n+gga one time, but with two whips
huh, yeah, i’m finna slide too
my b+tch caught me cheating, i’m like, “f+ck, i’m finna lie to her”
got too emotional, i’m finna cry to her
i ain’t say a word, she let me f+ck, i’m a vibe to her
phew, that’s crazy, ho
make a b+tch dirty dance, patrick swayze, ho
i just fall back and get the top, i’m a lazy ho
n+gga asked for a free verse, i’m like, “pay me, ho”
[verse 3: rio da yung og]
dropped sixty on a n+gga, i had two clips
my mama always told me, “never trust a b+tch with two lips”
bum n+gga, i’m talking ’bout you if the shoe fit
four guns— alright
how the f+ck i got four guns on me now, but i got two hips?
n+gga rolled a blunt of bullsh+t, that’s a doo stick
this ain’t no deuce+deuce, this a glock 22, b+tch
told the cali’ plug i can’t leave the state, so he flew it
thirty+two hundred dollar outfit on
palm angels, off to dior, i don’t wear vlone
b+tch, wipe that makeup off your face so i can skeet on it
d+mn, i thought i was finna nut, i done peed on her
i just got some clean dope, put my feet on it
you got a flyer? it’s ten bands or better to put me on it
caught myself buying an eight of tris, had a cheap moment
the plug ain’t have no more wock’, i broke down, had a weak moment
i don’t give a f+ck if you die, i don’t cry a lot
i get first dibs on the drank ’cause i buy a lot
stop talking ’bout it, you wanna get high? then go buy a pop
ridin’ through the hood in a lam’ truck tryna find the opps

[outro: rio da yung og]
ghetto boyz sh+t



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