Lost a Person lyrics
by RMC Mike
[Intro: Rio Da Yung OG]
(Ooh, Sav killed it)
Alright
I'm back in the— n*gga, I'm back, n*gga, f*ck what y'all n*ggas talkin' 'bout
Alright
[Verse 1: Rio Da Yung OG]
Okay, I'm back, I took a break, it was temporary
I made damn near ninety racks off "Legendary"
Free the ghetto, he'll be home 'round February
b*tch asked when I'ma spend some time with her, I said, "Neveruary"
Tryna make a million cash in my itinerary
Got some rap money and bought a bunch of artillery
I'm good in every state I go to, these n*ggas scared of me
f*ck a pitbull, b*tch, I'm the dog, be aware of me
Too much lean and Percocets, got me scared to sleep
Hit a b*tch raw, I think she burned me, got me scared to pee
Mask on when I start bustin', it was never me
I think I'm finna rap ninety bars, don't wanna share the beat
[Verse 2: RMC Mike]
Sixty-five-inch flatscreens sittin' in every room
Sorry, baby, I can't love you 'cause I married food
White b*tch with some big titties look like Betty Boop
PLR got a gas tube, I'll let it poot
Glock 30 came small as hell, but mean big business
b*tch started playin' with my sack, so I hit-sticked her
Wocky in my cup, you pourin' green, it's a big difference
Skate down your block and pop an opp top while I'm kickflippin'
Ayy, what up, SDot?
I swear my white boy sold more dog than a pet shop
I was overdue, she gave me head at the rest stop
Gen4 .357, I buy the best Glocks
[Verse 3: GrindHard E]
Ridin' down I-75, just passed Big Beaver
Police got behind me, I hid the pills in the b*tch cleavage
Went and picked up a b*tch for nothin', she was misleadin'
f*cked up in the head, I'll be happy if I catch a b*tch cheatin'
Get the f*ck on, like, b*tch, beat it
Got her comfortable, made her tell me all her deep secrets
Told the b*tch that I love her once, but I didn't mean it
PLR with a shell-catcher, you can meet Jesus
Crazy 'cause when I go to sleep, I be fightin' demons
Drunk a pint fast, ain't no more, now it got me fiendin'
Fiend got down on me for thirty pills 'cause I didn't read 'em
Told me they was Percocets 10s, but they was 750s
[Verse 4: Rio Da Yung OG]
Seven hundred blues in my stash spot
Red-tipped shells in a black Glock
Two headshots'll leave a n*gga flatter than a laptop
Sorry to inform you, this ain't Wock', this an Act' pop
I know I'm gettin' money, but I act broke
Fell asleep in the car for two days, feel like my back broke
My new b*tch pretty and she thicker than crack smoke
I'm damn near a millionaire, what I'ma buy a Hellcat for?
[Verse 5: RMC Mike]
Paid the b*tch to f*ck, her pus*y trash, I want my money back
Last week, Trael FaceTimed me with two hundred racks
Beat the lining out this b*tch pus*y, I'm off a honey pack
I made ten off breaking fake checks, bring Sonny back
That's my favorite Arab
Twenty-two minutes is how long a whole eight last
Pablo Picasso with this K, we in paint class
f*ck the pus*y, I just want some head with your stank ass
Go down the street you tryna cop some blues 'cause I'm poppin' mine
Peezy sent the contract, I signed on the dotted line
I could never tell my b*tch the truth, but I am not a liar
On the road to riches, want a ride, you gotta buy a tire
My b*tch think I'm stressin' 'cause I'm chain-smokin' Newports
I burned the 'Cat up at Cook Park, they need a new court
I'm plugged with the plug, your mans dry, you need a new source
I swear to God, I think I say "b*tch" better than Too $hort
[Verse 6: GrindHard E]
Don't put no weed on that scale, it's been dope on it
I don't even ride past my block, ain't no hope on it
She ain't put her mouth, she put her throat on it
b*tch acts too childish to me, she ain't no woman
Auntie used to play with the hard, now she snowblowin'
Started trickin' off last month, damn near went broke from it
Don't pull a ratty-ass car out, we gon' junk on it
The bag ain't movin' fast enough, so I'm slow rollin'
Clutch runnin' in and out the crib, who left the door open?
FN bullets fast, leave a n*gga heart in slow-motion
[Verse 7: Rio Da Yung OG]
Okay, I'm ready to go hard, last year was just really practice
Pop a n*gga up, then go eat me a Philly sandwich
b*tch, I ain't trickin' with you, that's for kids, you silly rabbit
You worried 'bout installations, need to go buy a better mattress
Twelve years ago, I was cough syrupin'
I just clocked in the booth, I don't think I'll get out 'til Thursday
I done bought hoes liquor and Plan B, I never bought Birkins
Twelve lines of drank and six blues, when I walk, I'm swervin'
Ain't no phones in the trap, I can't talk, I'm servin'
Hit the club a hundred deep, I think we lost a person
Fancy-ass n*gga, b*tch, I talk in cursive
Had her suckin' di*k all night, her esophagus hurtin'