rib tha k1d - rtk lyrics
(d-mn son where’d you find this?)
[verse 1]
goof and rib we done been here in the lambo and i’m shiftin’ gears
i f-cked around, bought a penthouse and it payed off for ’bout ten years
run it back i’m a man now so i’m on my own and i face my fears
ap done been flooded out and i got a mortgage on my f-cking ears
designer drip like i’m high fashion and i gotta louis v lawnmower
might f-ck around and go pop a seal like i’m chief keef i hate bein’ sober
told the b-tch i’m a raw dog, but she ain’t believe me so i had to show her
run up on you with a glock 17 and spray you down like a leaf blower
got a short hoe, she a oompa loompa and her throat warm like a sp-ce heater
my b-tches tens no derek jeter imma hit it raw and then go delete her
shawty got a man with no drip and his nose long like a anteater
i done poured up about half a liter and i’m leaned out, so i had to beat her
[chorus]
rtk and i’m h-rny so don’t bore me
clip long like a flagpole and it hangin’ out my 40
fashion, trappin’, rappin’, that’s my style so hide yo god d-mn shorty
y’all doin’ that simpin’ no cob but fam that’s kind of corny
and i’m gone
off the perc 30 and ganja out the bong
she in a thong, she like my songs
and i play with that b-tch t-tties like ping pong
[verse 2]
back on my grind like a skateboard and i’m too hard no lil baby
run up on you like i’m barry sanders and i’m in the pocket like i’m tom brady
blonde b-tch with a spray tan saw my whip and said “rib that sh-t wavy”
bruh that dumb b-tch saw a sp-ceship but nah fam this that new mercedes
pull up with that draco if i catch y’all lackin’ imma get to k!llin’
she play with my b-lls no dragon, and her head bald so i call her krillin
that b-tch kinda hungry so i gave her d-ck and she said it’s fillin’
send them bullets like a quarterback, and i ain’t no cook, but i’ll get to grillin’
[chorus]
rtk and i’m h-rny so don’t bore me
clip long like a flagpole and it hangin’ out my 40
fashion, trappin’, rappin’, that’s my style so hide yo god d-mn shorty
y’all doin’ that simpin’ no cob but fam that’s kind of corny
and i’m gone
off the perc 30 and ganja out the bong
she in a thong, she like my songs
and i play with that b-tch t-tties like ping pong
[outro]
rib
(skin tone chicken bone leave me alone head-ss ohh he talkin to you)
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