Ricky Lyrics – PaperRoute Woo
Singer: PaperRoute Woo
Title: Ricky
[Hurricane made this beat
You know that I go in [I go in
f#ckin’ this great b#tch from the low in [The low in
Ain’t doin’ no tusslin’ [Uh-uh
In the club, yeah, I got that pole in [That pole in
Serve straight drop, n#gg# [Eat them], straight butter, n#gg#, we ain’t touchin’ no fed [No fed
Solo thuggin’, no with-my-brother n#gg# [Yeah] ’cause I don’t need no friends [No friends
Smokin’ kush, poppin’ Percs [Uh], gotta wash it down with the codeine [Dope
Hollow tips in a Glock [Uh], bust and aim, I don’t need no bin [No
Twenty K one week, that ain’t sh#t, man, I want more cheese [More cheese
Blew to Cali’, met the plug, n#gg# [Yeah], and went got my own Ps [Own Ps
Rappin’ ’bout a gangster life [Yeah], you ain’t gangster, n#gg#, you thе police [Rat
You just follow me on this ‘Gram [Huh?], n#gg#, you don’t really know mе [Cap
Hit the b#tch from the back off the huntin’, I ain’t need no wig [Yeah
Lil’ n#gg#s do it off the street [Yeah], n#gg#, they don’t need no cheese [No cheese
Big slime, big God [Uh], big Blood, all about racks [Slatt
Thirty-round, fifty-round, hundred-round in all of my straps [Blatt
Big rat, big cap, all that flodgin’ get a n#gg# slapped [Slapped
You rappin’ ’bout another n#gg#’s life [Uh], you ain’t livin’ like that [Cap
Went through TSA with the load on me [Yeah], I’m talkin’ ’bout them racks [Rackaids
I watch a n#gg# fold on me, he ain’t love me, he ain’t had my back [p#ss#
This n#gg# snake, so I’ma Ricky me a n#gg#, shoot him dead in the back [Ricky
And make this sh#t amusing right now, so a n#gg# catchin’ them packs [Packs
Finna cop the Cartier [Uh], I ain’t want it, so I copped me some bags [Bags
Even when the drop came, n#gg# [What?], I was still pumpin’ straight gas [Gas
You the type of n#gg# get mad at a n#gg# ’bout some #ss [b#tch-ass n#gg#
And I’m the type of n#gg# gon’ slime me out, n#gg#, ’bout that cash [b#tch
What I got in both pockets? n#gg#, you lucky your lil’ stash
Nev-nev-never had a wallet, but you know a young n#gg# on a Bentley mad [Yeah
Pistol in me, eat your head [Yeah
So you itchin’ for the millions, man [Yeah], a young n#gg# finna get it, man [Yeah
Ain’t toleratin’ sh#t from no n#gg# [Uh-uh], oh, you gon’ be a finished man [Finished, yeah]
f#ckin’ on this fat booty b#tch from the North, met her on Frayser Boulevard [Uh
The first time she invited me to her crib, I thought that she was tryna get me robbed [Uh
I like too much expensive sh#t, that’s why I never could get a regular job [I can’t do that
I just made a million in three or four weeks [Yeah
Tell them suckers, “f#ck they feelings, n#gg#, talk cheap” [Yeah
Ain’t got no tool box, I just keep my hammer on a seat [Yeah
I f#cked your b#tch and blocked her, got the plug on repeat [Run it up
Michael Jackson, Billie Jean walkin’ on the beat [Hee
My b#tch a boss, but she gon’ look and listen when I speak [Ayy
What’s your newest resolution, dawg? I just wanna eat
Ayy, hold up, let me say one more time, I just wanna eat [Eat]
Yeah, n#gg#, know what I’m talkin’ ’bout? [Huh?
Yeah, n#gg# gon’ be a n#gg# wrapped up like motherf#ckin’ blanket ring [Blanket
b#tch n#gg#, yeah, and we ain’t tolerate from no other n#gg# [Uh-uh
None of that f#ck sh#t [None of that, dawg
All you n#gg#s f#ck n#gg#s [Uh
Know what I’m sayin’? Yup, in that order, man [Mmm-hmm
Know [That order], straight up [Huh
Yeah [Yeah], yeah [Yeah], yeah [Yeah], yeah [Yeah]
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Lyrics PaperRoute Woo – Ricky
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