Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Spicy Talk, artist - Rio Da Yung OG. Date of issue: 06.12.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Spicy Talk |
| I keep 'em with me, but don’t put 'em in my pictures |
| He a shooter |
| He fuckin' with the soft kind too, he a ooter |
| I be tryin' get my nigga in a lift, not a scooter |
| I can’t say what I really dream about, 'cause I’mma do her |
| If I blow her, it’s gon' be like a- |
| If I blow her, it’s gon- (Alright, alright, alright) |
| Bought a boat for me to blow, 'cause I’m a weed connoisseur |
| If I put her out there, she bringin' back, prostitute- |
| If I put her out there, she bringin' back, prostitute-er |
| Niggas street skills is way too low, I’m a tutor |
| I went from top brain-man in the joint, to some bennies now |
| I used to walk around with a shank, I tote a semi now |
| Remember back then, I couldn’t pile, I bet she hear me now |
| I fucked up her head, went on the 'gram and upped a hunnid-thou |
| That was all my cash |
| Judge ask why I ain’t finish school, I was not gon' pass |
| She just got her whole body done, and it’s not yo' ass |
| I just popped two perk 30's, I was not gon' last |
| Drop a four in a two, where the cheesy stacks? |
| Free bitch, snatched a nigga soul, tell her «bring it back» |
| Used to buy a ball of dope and make fifty off it |
| Now I buy a brick for fourty-one and make fifty off it |
| Let’s throw a paperwork party, like face |
| I got twenty on me now, and that really ain’t no pape' |
| Shit, I got a extra twenty in the drac' |
| And truth, cussin' hoes out, like get yo' pussy out my face |
| This ain’t zaza bro, it’s just some real cookie from the bay |
| Blue suck me in whole paint, and I drank it in a day |
| Spend a nigga crib on halloween and shot a pumpkin in the face |
| Why the fuck you niggas got less than a hunnid in the safe? |
| Keep me in cash on me, two hunnid burried, two hunnid in the bank |
| Burberry umbrella, incase it’s thunderin' in the day |
| I’m known for hittin' a bitch raw, have her stomach gainin' weight |
| Tryna fuck this fat bitch, but yo' stomach in the way |
| I got a walk plug, I could sell a hunnid pints a day |
| We in the yacht club, 44 mil', fourty K |
| You is not plug, ain’t no way you gettin' 'em out the way |
| Fuck five hoes in one day and get 'em out my face |
| Fuck five hoes in one day and get 'em out my face |
| Got too many pints of green, brodie, get 'em out the case |
| Got it in my coat pocket, it ain’t sittin' on my waist |
| I’m officially a rapper, I’ll dive off a stage |
| Lifestyle changed, and had to put my mind- |
| Lifestyle changed, and had to put my mind in the game |
| Still in the streets, the rain got my mind on the game |
| Bet he thinkin' different though, and it’s a nine on his brain |
| Trappin' out the studio, like it’s a evening’s change |
| Ridin' with the same gun I just shot a nigga with |
| Riddin' round with fifty fives, we got sided in the whip |
| Came up off of grams, but it look like a deal |
| Sellin' three dollar rocks, two for fives on a hill |
| Used to get perks for free, it’s twenty five for a pill |
| My main man got three L’s, he gon' die before appeal |
| Drunk a pint and tried to drive, that was god behind the wheel |
| I know I’m out of fit, but I’m always got it on me, still |