Lyrics $200 Haircuts - Rio Da Yung OG

$200 Haircuts

Alright
Early as hell, nigga, me and Wayne still cookin', alright
It’s 7 in the morning, finna pour another pop
Just from ran from the state boys, had to throw another Glock
Stop talkin' 'bout the bag, nigga, show me what you got
Made thirty yesterday, I might just blow it on a watch
Hit the bottom of the pint and had to open up the top
Had to tell unc' I’m straight if he smoke another rock
Brodie in the joint with a shank 'bout to poke another opp
This a fully-auto Glock, but I hold it like a chop
Breakfast time, pourin' Wocky in the orange juice
Drinkin' real Alpharma, the orange juice
Flipped the script on a fan, pulled out my phone, «Let me record you»
Noddin', slobbin' off drank, I might snore too
I hate buyin' threes of lean 'cause I might pour two
Went to the O to do some features, but we scored too
Came back with three pints of straight drop
Ready for the war, I bought three nines and one Glock
Six of Morton Grove, nigga, me and D-Nice on one pop
Yeah, alright, I got a six of Morton
I got a six of Morton Grove, it’s just me and D-Nice, we got one pop
I can up the four-nick' off my hip and make a truck stop
Bro got caught with some OJs on, alright
Bro got caught with OJs on the Greyhound, the bus hot
Thirty pointers on the bezel, alright
Thirty pointers, alright, alright
Thirty pointers on a bezel, that’s display, bro, bust not
I can drink lean and sleep 'til next year, I got a bunch of snot
Shiesty nigga, put it on his head, got my cousin popped
My son old enough to watch my music, I don’t cuss a lot
Psych, nigga, I don’t give a fuck a lot
Bitch, I got big hips, I can tuck a chop
Punchin' in and out on these beats, I used to punch the clock
Just bust another watch, nigga, that’s thirty
Just bust another watch, that’s thirty racks for a fuckin' clock
He just grabbed the ball and now he want a zip, he a fuckin' cop
Beat my pockets' ass last night, they got a fuckin' knot
I let Coochie Man bust the hoes down, I don’t fuck a lot
If we talkin' rap money, I done touched a lot
Bitch, put the whole dick in your mouth, stop tryna suck the top
Left the bottom of the watch plain, I’ma bust the top
SK’ll cut a tree down, that’s why it’s called a fuckin' chop
Thinkin' to myself should I drop that Lam' truck?
Or should I sit back and stack another hundred bands up?
Walkin' out your bitch room zippin' my pants up
No cap, in middle school, I fucked two hundred grand up
Only sellin' zips, you want a gram, what?
What the fuck that nigga just say?
Let me stand up
Spice talkin' got it hot in the booth, cut the fan up
Thumbin' through a whole hundred grams fucked my hand up
Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga, you know what the fuck goin' on
Nigga, yeah
Bitch, you know, ah
Free Big Ghetto
Free C, free Young, nigga
The whole Ghetto Boyz shit
Can’t fuck with the Ghetto Boy clique
Bitch, I got steroids in the clip, these some strong bullets
I just bought a .308, them the long bullets