lirik lagu scary christmas – rio da yung og, west b & skeechy meechy
[intro: west b]
it’s a scary christmas
this for all my n*ggas who be actin’ like they grinches
my n*gga, rio, what up? west b
[verse 1: west b]
42 bustdown, no arms tickin’
boy, your sh*t ain’t real, we’ll card n*ggas
buck*fifty to his neck, get him on the yard, n*gga
dirty n*ggas always tryna act hard
amg parked in my garage
spent a hundred on this b*tch, it better give a massage
and your b*tch always tryna come and give him a ride
hoppin’ out like gucci, two chops on the side
boy, my life ain’t perfect (h*ll nah)
i done took a lot of risks with that sh*t, but it’s worth it (for real)
been to jail, i ain’t perfect
hit my knees in that cell, pray to god like i’m workin’
on the phone tryna hit me with another charge
reach for my chain, n*gga, we gon’ stomp the yard
n*ggas hoеs, all you gotta do is pull they cards
pullin’ up big rolls*royce, i’m into livin’ large
diffеrent hoes on the floor, catch it in your face
only snow in the pot, i’m catchin’ every flake
n*gga, hustle in the hood, i do that every day
wake up in the morning, phone slappin’, i want every play
[verse 2: skeechy meechy]
i’ma start this b*tch right, boy, it’s still f*ck your favorite rapper
lookin’ at my wrist, this b*tch jittin’ like an ’80s dancer
sleep with all the lights on, this a mini*mansion
that white b*tch screamin’ in the pot, i think her name karen
i’m on the block where tupac got shot in a blue mclaren
thug life ’til a n*gga die, live longer than pairin’
all eyes on me, you never seen a gangster?
you got the ball, takin’ pictures, i’m the n*gga paintin’
matilda, when i point a finger, n*ggas aimin’
griselda, know we got them squares and rectangles
big tigger, blender louder than a washer in the bas*m*nt
i’m with 50, we just made another fifty, we in vegas
n*ggas feelin’ famous, you really the lamest
got a little rap money, if i’m mad, i’m gon’ take it
i’ll never let a rap n*gga play me (i won’t)
i’ll rob one of these n*ggas if they make me (i will)
we’ll k!ll one of these n*ggas if they shady, we get real dough
n*ggas pumped up, gassin’ him up, think he citgo
make this b*tch sing, dru hill, but i ain’t sisqó (at all)
drive to king clouds, get a hookah, yeah, from big bro
i’m just still gon’ stop when i want
stock on a glock, twin glock chop the opponent
had to learn cop, shoot a cop, yeah, i’m like a stoney
blew down the watch, vvs rocks, no coneys (yeah)
[verse 3: rio da yung og]
muddy*ass cup cost a h*llcat car note
b*tch, i’ll one*hand this draco ’til my arm broke
leave a hole in his top like a dolphin, i’m a shark, though
two hundred bucks for that lam’ truck, i can’t park it, though
when my cousin died, my mama looked at me like, “where your heart go?”
the pill press broke, so ain’t no percs, but i got narcs, though
okay, i see you in the gucci store, that’s my closet, though
i’m a seven*figure n*gga, i might not step in the bar no more
i’m in a ’21 widebody
wonderin’ where the n*gga chain go, he got robbed probably
six racks for my earrings, i don’t buy cartis
on halloween night, baby ghost shot up five parties
don’t be sayin’ sh*t you can’ stand on
woke up this morning, dropped a four of wock’, that’s a band gone
go to sleep fresh as f*ck, i woke up like, “where my pants go?”
your b*tch sucked the soul out me
wonder why your n*gga keep a gun, ’cause he a ho probably
ran some dog sh*t up by myself, i don’t owe n0body
sprayed the crowd up, hit two pregnant b*tches, i caught four bodies
you know what the f*ck up when me and skeech link
add me up, four different chains on, thirty g’s a piece
and that’s just for the charm, i ain’t add the rope
i got a handgun— alright
i got a handgun that’ll make a sailor crash the boat
my fiend got sick, i was gettin’ pints of glass for dope
went to church with an eight*ball ’cause the pastor smoke
five*seven ripped his face off, the casket closed
me and skeechy on the finkel with it
took a gun off the n*gga hip and beat him with it
don’t give a f*ck ’bout the circumstances, i’ma keep a glizzy
let my lil’ n*gga move the bag, i’ma reap the benefits
[outro: rio da yung og]
yeah, n*gga
you know what the f*ck goin’ on
ghetto boyz sh*t, n*gga
it’s rio
you know what— ayy, what up, west b? what up, skeech?
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