More songs by Rio Da Yung Og
More songs by FBLMANNY
Description
Producer: EJ Stellar
Composer: EJ Stellar
Lyricist: Da'mario Donshay Horne-McCullough
Lyricist: Ernest Adams
Lyrics and translation
Original
Yeah, definitely, definitely, uh.
I go lamb chop, I go chrome socks, I go chrome Glock, I go gold pop.
I go dog shit, boy, I'm having no opps. I go four pops, I go four watches.
I go five diamond links, what you know about it?
I go one carat each ear, twenty-four thousand a piece, nigga. I go three, nigga. I go activist in red, I go green, nigga.
Yeah.
I went Manny, I go FBL. I go five million dollars that I made in jail.
This nigga went rat, I can't believe he said they made him tell.
I go whole Balenciaga, I go break the scale. I go Escalade V, but I ain't with Trail.
I go wifey everything, I know y'all wish I stayed in jail. I go, I go, I go.
I go five in a small pop, I go small Glock.
Looking for them niggas, we go all spots, we hit every spot.
I go pint of Cuae and I drink every drop, I never stop. They made a big mistake when they let me out.
I'll break this bitch down to rocks and go granny house. I go one-fifty for my brother lawyer, let my family out.
She used to love my drawers, she can't stand me now.
I paid eight thousand for these pants, I didn't go hand-me-down.
We came Draco in the club, you can't pat me down. I go, "All my trust in you," and then you let me down, I'm gone.
I go twenty K for this fit, I ain't even count the jewelry, uh.
I go AP for the watch, I don't know why niggas curious, uh.
I go LG for the coupe, I pull up fast and furious, uh. I go red guts on the seat like the bitch is on her period, uh.
I went top floor on the pent so the opp boy can't get near it, uh.
I went chrome heart for the jeans, no, these are not Amiri.
If I do the crime, I do the time, no, I won't drop a tear.
Mm, uh, I went mine records, and I'm fresh off all the jet, they say we flying records, uh.
I went plane crash in the slop, it got me flying better. I go thirty in the path, I feel it slide better, uh.
I go fat ass in my lap, think she's a BB yeller, uh.
I go rest and hit her, pat on, put that shit together, uh. I go foreign, bitch, I'm still, meet her at the telly, uh. I go
Sprite the beverage, uh. I go, "What that's in your cup?
" I don't need no wet to tell it, uh. I go Glock, you better not buck, I send shots into melon.
I go ham sandwich in my pocket like I work the deli.
I go six K for the FO1s, it's like I signed a Nelly.