Back Stabbers lyrics

[Intro]
(I hear you, JAY C)

[Verse 1: CashClick Boog]
Don't give a f*ck about a label, the trap slappin'
The safe full with so much currency 'cause I'm cash havin'
Tryna meet face-to-face to do a feature, just Cash App me
Remy told me stop sippin' lean, them my bad habits
Off a Perc', beat the pus*y up, I'm a jackrabbit
Hollow tip touch your torso like a backscratcher
Hit the D and everybody show me love, just ask Bla$ta
Just blew a hundred racks on some lean, boy, I'm ass-backwards

[Verse 2: Rio Da Yung OG]
I can't run around actin' like I'm rich, I'm asthmatic
If I'm in a situation where I run, I blast backwards
Brown box with the bubble wrap, that's a glass casket
n*gga ran up on me while I'm in the Bay, I let Bla$t blast him
Half a brick is eighteen O's, it's mathematics
I ain't got no pocket space for the pape', I'ma backpack it
Glock already got one in the head, don't gotta rack back it
I love a pretty b*tch with good credit that act ratchet

[Verse 3: CashClick Boog]
b*tch, what time you on?
Picked up my first Glock, I was nine years old
Remember I ain't have eleven cents, couldn't buy no Girbauds
But now I'm rich and I spend most of my time in a Rolls
Noddin' off in the stu', Rich like, "b*tch, you blinkin'"
Every time I pull through the Ritz, they be like, "b*tch, you famous"
If she ain't got a Rollie on her wrist, then that b*tch too basic
Stay at the trip, then I'm back to the strip tryna get new paper
[Verse 4: Rio Da Yung OG]
Only reason dog got a pass 'cause he was with his baby
The first time I drunk Actavis, I was with my auntie
I still can't believe them ho-ass n*ggas told on KD
How the f*ck do you know JC and you ain't smoke with A-Lee?
I'm tired of drinkin' cough syrup, I'm on phase three
But it's crazy, I got to day three and poured an eight of lean
If he got some money and his kids starvin', that ain't G
Spank somethin' on camera with a ski mask on, bro, that ain't me

[Outro: Rio Da Yung OG]
Ghetto Boyz sh*t, n*gga
You know what the f*ck goin' on
CashClick, yeah
From the Bay to the hood
From the Bay to the Flint Town, that's how we get down
Got this 'za play right now, I need fifty-six pounds
We get— alright now
We get fifty cent an ounce for the Actavis
Y'all n*ggas ain't—
Ayy, ayy, Ghetto Boyz sh*t, n*gga, sh*t on the floor