Macten - Rick Owen lyrics
[Macten - Rick Owen lyrics]
In a damn SRT tesla S, going top speed
Got big racks all on me
Keep that choppa on me
And the Prada all on my tee
There's a rack in these Rick Owen jeans
Keep that nine on me
Gotta keep the fye, keep the heat
Aye, racks on me, I spend it
Fuck that hoe then get it
You not Slay, can't kick it
You not gang, we don't know you
Big ass choppa gon' fold you
Put a nigga ass on a poster
Big ol' choppa get you downed
+1 don't fuck with you
I'm knocking your head off
Got mud up in my cup
This shit thicker than eggnog
This white hoe in my bedroom
And she taking her dress off
You not +1, can't kick it, yeah
Your money same size as midget
Choppa make your head turn
Just like a fidget
All of these fake Slays, they need to quit it
How you got a gun but you don't spit it?
Probably your mans that let you split it
If the convo ain't 'bout no digit's
Bitch you'd better just zip it
If you ain't talking 'bout that guap
Why the fuck would I ever even wanna listen
, with me cost a pendant
I own all this shit and
Your ass just a tenant two blicks and an AR
But I'm not a lieutenant
In a damn SRT tesla S, going top speed
Got big racks all on me
Keep that choppa on me
And the Prada all on my tee
There's a rack in these Rick Owen jeans
Keep that nine on me
Gotta keep the fye, keep the heat
Aye, racks on me, I spend it
Fuck that hoe then get it
You not Slay, can't kick it
You not gang, we don't know you
Big ass choppa gon' fold you
Put a nigga ass on a poster
Got big racks all on me
Keep that choppa on me
And the Prada all on my tee
There's a rack in these Rick Owen jeans
Keep that nine on me
Gotta keep the fye, keep the heat
Aye, racks on me, I spend it
Fuck that hoe then get it
You not Slay, can't kick it
You not gang, we don't know you
Big ass choppa gon' fold you
Put a nigga ass on a poster
Big ol' choppa get you downed
+1 don't fuck with you
I'm knocking your head off
Got mud up in my cup
This shit thicker than eggnog
This white hoe in my bedroom
And she taking her dress off
You not +1, can't kick it, yeah
Your money same size as midget
Choppa make your head turn
Just like a fidget
All of these fake Slays, they need to quit it
How you got a gun but you don't spit it?
Probably your mans that let you split it
If the convo ain't 'bout no digit's
Bitch you'd better just zip it
If you ain't talking 'bout that guap
Why the fuck would I ever even wanna listen
, with me cost a pendant
I own all this shit and
Your ass just a tenant two blicks and an AR
But I'm not a lieutenant
In a damn SRT tesla S, going top speed
Got big racks all on me
Keep that choppa on me
And the Prada all on my tee
There's a rack in these Rick Owen jeans
Keep that nine on me
Gotta keep the fye, keep the heat
Aye, racks on me, I spend it
Fuck that hoe then get it
You not Slay, can't kick it
You not gang, we don't know you
Big ass choppa gon' fold you
Put a nigga ass on a poster