Icewear Vezzo, Rio Da Yung OG - Jack Artist lyrics

Ayy, I'm a jack artist
Yeah, I mean that literally, bitch
I jack artists
Yeah, I make that chopper sound
Like a 'Cat started
I just robbed a nigga for ten
'bows and got a trap started

Just bought a case of green
Pints off the black market
Sold my Ram truck the other day
I'm 'bout to Trackhawk it
He used to have dog shit, now he back walkin'
Nigga raise his voice, I'ma
Let the Drakey speak, call that back talkin'

And fuck around and double back
Call that backpedal (yeah)
I pour up
Then take a nap and let the Act' settle
(True) he talkin' crooked
Headshot'll leave his hat levеl
I get tired of fuckin' up the chickеn
Time to stack cheddar

The rap game pay me good
But I'm a crack seller
Legendary, who else you know made
A hundred racks on tether?
I bust a whole watch down
I ain't half-steppin'
That Rio piece twelve racks, you can ask Gary

Bitch, I'm really from the 6, yeah
You can ask Terry (6)
I heard you goin' out of town
I got a bag ready
Took 75 all the way, ain't gotta ask Siri
Gotta take a risk to be a champ
These niggas act scary
They say I'm always leavin' shit
Like I ran a race
How you don't never throw no pape'
You just stand and hate?
Pour so much motherfuckin' purple
Turn the Fanta grape
Whole pint of Wocky with the seal
Look like a can of paint

I made a lot of blues fuckin'
With that tan and gray
Forty-shot clip in the K, got a banana shape
I put the Quali' over Tris
And got a better taste
Before the rap, we had a dope spot
A hundred grams a day
Catch a nigga walkin' out the club
Threw a party on him
Catch me walkin' into Golden Sun
Thirty thousand on me
My right wrist was lookin' plain
Threw a Carti on it
Pop a nigga in the strip club
Now the party over

White Wraithy, white seats
Threw the Forgis on it
Niggas need they kit's tested
Put a Maury on 'em (Hah)
Heard he a sucker for them hoes
Threw a Barbie on him
Goofy nigga thought he was gon' fuck
Until she called us on him

Shot my bitch in her right leg
Pulled a Tory on her
You could fuck any bitch in Flint
If you got forty for her
I heard your mans snitched
Told the whole story to 'em
On the 6 with Vezz
Sellin' hit pints for Robert Horry numbers

Yeah, Ghetto Boyz shit iUR shit
You know what the fuck goin' on