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gallery provence & rio da yung og - da ghetto lyrics

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[intro: rio da yung og]
(ooh, sav k!lled it)
alright
ghetto boys sh+t
i just bought a pint— ah
i just—
alright
(ayy, gallery, what the f+ck y’all got for me?)

[verse: rio da yung og]
i just bought a pint of wock’, i’m finna drink it all
it’s gon’ be a hard time for a n+gga that think i’m soft
stop callin’ it re+up, bro, you really just need to ball
f+ck the gucci store, tell somerset i’ma need the mall
walkin’ out with white sticks on, [?]
i done sold rap crack, promethazine with codeine and dog
hit a n+gga up close with the glock, i gotta clean it off
b+tch sucked my whole d+ck and tried to eat my b+lls
i’ll remodel a b+tch house off these percs, like she don’t need walls
punch a n+gga in his face, i broke his jaw, he lost t++th [?]
i know that new season gucci in if peter called me
the way i pitched the ball, you would think derek jeter taught me
take a bath of alcohol to keep mosquitoes off me
hit the n+gga dough with alcohol, he got a clean ball
yeah, i’ma sanitize it
them is not vvss, let me magnify ’em
tried to whoop the n+gga ass at his funeral, he in his casket fightin’
stop talkin’ ’bout a brick of soft, you a basket buyer
beat a n+gga ass with a suit on, i’m a fancy fighter
i got so much scooby doo, i know sh+ggy probably
man, i’m talkin’ brown dog
n+gga told and we ain’t seen his ass, he a groundhog
paranoid, see my shadow when i let the four pound off
i got so much water on my neck, i can drown y’all
i need a brick of dog, how much a great hound cost?
the bus ain’t drop me off, i just dropped a greyhound off
n+gga left his weed house and took an eight pound loss
trigger happy, every time i shoot, i let a hundred rounds off
i’m close to a million, i don’t even wanna be around y’all
somebody call up, though, i need some cherry
i ain’t gon’ lie, if i was lil’ e, i would’ve k!lled mary
i drink lean ’cause it taste good, it make me feel better
nowadays, it’s all gucci, i ain’t wearin’ tommy hilfiger
i got a hundred racks now, i ain’t a lil’ n+gga
hit my dog but he ain’t tryna make no money, i can’t deal with him
i ain’t goin’ back and forth, i’ll k!ll a n+gga
i ain’t [?] there when i was broke, so i’m still with her
this a 4matic 650 benz, [?] heel in it
he thought sh+t was sweet ’til we caught his ass, banana peels slipped him
actions speak louder than words, we gon’ know if you a real n+gga
ayy, and you a fake dude
gen5 glock 19, i got a k too
i got off, mix this pound with a half a pound of k2
i don’t g+ngb+ng, but i be drinkin’ red and i make blue
how the f+ck you gon’ run a hundred k up in some fake shoes?
i got down on my knees, she sold her five hundred fake blues
if you ain’t never caught a body, i hate you
poured so much lean in this grapefruit, it look like a grape juice



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