Drive By lyrics

[Intro]
(Primo, turn this sh*t up)
b*tch!
(Primo Beats on the track)
What up, Primo?
Ghetto Boyz sh*t, n*gga
What up, Ri?

[Verse]
f*ck a Scat, n*gga, this a widebody Benz
Plug said the bricks came in, I told him fly me ten
One day, my mama caught me f*ckin' on Siamese twins
We kicked the door down, naw, they couldn't deny me in
Where was y'all n*ggas when I was broke and didn't have sh*t?
Talk about that sh*t we used to do, boy that's past tense
Now I can go walk up in the mall and just cash sh*t
f*ck a verse, I need five thousand for an adlib
I just got myself blew off at a fan crib
Unc' caught a body in '08, his name Stan Smith
Counted out two thousand blue strips, now my hands stiff
n*gga tried to rob my main b*tch, she let the fin rip
Ten thousand dollars, all blues, that's a thin strip
Have her forty times, Gelato 41 called Thin Mints
n*gga tried to flex with five bands, that's his friend sh*t
Unc' told me whip up a pie with the thin crist
Oops, I mean thin crust
Sixty thousand for the Caprice, it came rimmed up
It's really stolen, but you know I switched the VINs up
Ri, what you got stashed, 'bout a hundred-ten-plus?
Back to the ACG boots, we cut Timbs up
We need a touchdown on this play, hut-ten-hut
If you with me, that's my bro, n*gga, we f*ck friends up
Cartier frames bust down with the lens cut
n*gga happy 'cause he finally put his first ten up
'Cause I done put up ten ten times in a quick month
41 bezel hittin' hard, got his b*tch f*cked
I done got so used to sh*t talkin', I can't switch up
I'm a problem, but y'all n*ggas really can't f*ck with my brother Ri
We'll both knock him out with one punch, ain't no double-swing
We drinkin' Wockeska, D said pour him a shot of double green
I still drink it, but sometimes I be iffy 'bout double lean
Auntie called with an eight of red that came out the pharm'
I got a standard one plus the Honey Badger, came double-R
Pay attention, 'cause you prolly think I'm talkin' 'bout the f*ckin' car
No, I'm not, b*tch I'm talkin' 3.00 with the double-Rs
Ran up some dog sh*t from sh*t-talkin', I ain't gotta sweat
Twelve-hour blocks in the booth, b*tch, I ain't got a lot
Lean man, b*tch, it took me eleven minutes just to find a pint
Shoutout to my brother Louie Ray, we still grindin', right?
I'm the Truth and I tell my b*tch the truth, that mean I'm lying, right?
Left hand kinda f*cked up, I gave you five, right?
I had to goal to make a hundred, did that sh*t in like five nights
9K for this outfit got on, I'm a fly guy
n*ggas pus*y, man, I'm startin' to really think they got nine lives
b*tch, we came up in one year, look how time flies
Caught a body with my Blood n*gga, gave him high-five
I stop and talk sh*t to the haters, I don't just drive by (Primo, turn this sh*t up)
[Outro]
Like, what up, n*gga?
Know what the f*ck goin' on, man
Ghetto Boy, RMC sh*t, n*gga (Primo Beats on the track)
Yeah, b*tch