Ricky lyrics
by Young Dolph
[Intro]
(Hurricane made this one)
(Sosa 808)
[Verse 1: PaperRoute Woo & Young Dolph]
You know that I go in (I go in)
f*ckin' this Grape 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*gga (Eat them), straight butter, n*gga, we ain't touchin' no fed (No fed)
Solo thuggin', no with my brother n*gga (Yeah), 'cause I don't need no friend (No friend)
Smokin' kush, poppin' Percs (Uh), gotta wash it down with the codeine (Dope)
Hollow tips in a Glock (Uh), perfect aim, I don't need no beam (No)
Twenty K one week, that ain't sh*t, man, I want more cheese (More cheese)
Blew to Cali, met the plug, n*gga (Yeah), and went got my own Ps (Own Ps)
Rappin' 'bout a gangster lifе (Yeah), you ain't gangster, n*gga, you the policе (Rat)
You just follow me on the 'Gram (Huh?), n*gga, you don't really know me (Cap)
Hit the b*tch from the back off the hunny, I ain't need no wig (Yeah)
Lil' n*ggas do it off the street (Yeah), n*gga, 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*gga slapped (Slapped)
You rappin' 'bout another n*gga life (Uh), you ain't livin' like that (Cap)
Went through TSA with this load on me (Yeah), I'm talkin' 'bout them racks (Rackaids)
I watch a n*gga fold on me, he ain't love me, he ain't had my back (pus*y)
This n*gga snake, so I'ma Ricky me a n*gga, shoot him dead in the back (Ricky)
And make this sh*t amusing right now, so a n*gga 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*gga (What?), I was still pumpin' straight gas (Gas)
You the type of n*gga get mad at a n*gga 'bout some ass (b*tch-ass n*gga)
And I'm the type of n*gga gon' slime you out, n*gga, 'bout that cash (b*tch)
What I got in both pockets? n*gga, you lucky your lil' stash
Nev-nev-never had a wallet, but you know a young n*gga on a Bentley mad (Yeah)
Pistol in me, eat your head (Yeah)
Finger itchin' for them millions, man (Yeah), that young n*gga finna get it, man (Yeah)
Ain't toleratin' sh*t from no n*gga (Uh-uh), oh, you gon' be a finished man (Finished, yeah)
[Verse 2: Young Dolph]
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 millio' in three or four weeks (Yeah)
Tell them suckers, "f*ck they feelings, n*gga, 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 New Years resolution, dog? I just wanna eat
Ayy, hold up, let me say one more time, I just wanna eat (Eat)
[Outro: PaperRoute Woo]
Yeah, n*gga, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout? (Huh?)
Yeah, n*gga gon' be a n*gga wrapped up like a motherf*ckin' blanket ring (Blanket, b*tch n*gga)
Yeah, and we ain't tolerate no disrespect from no other n*gga (Uh-uh)
None of that f*ck sh*t (None of that, dawg)
All you n*ggas f*ck n*ggas (Uh)
Know what I'm sayin'? Yeah, in that order, man (Mm-hmm)
Know (That order)
Straight up (Huh)
Yeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah)