Rx Papi - Kiss The Ring (First Day Out) lyrics

(yeah, yeah)

I'm back in that mode
Got 'em lined up at the door
Beat the pot on the back of the stove
Came back with the load
Sent Auntie back to the store
If I say,  "get 'em whacked" then he gone
I do not need a loan the Glock on my hip
I can't leave it at home
Can't kick the cup, I can't leave it alone
It's one in the head
Bitch just leave me alone
When you talking to me better even your tone
Walk in this bitch like Ted DiBiase
Hands on with the brick like Mr miyagi

Switch on the Glock, bitch get out of the way
Dark-skinned Cartis look like Johnny Cage
Blue tips spitting up out of the K
Aimed for his chest, he got shot in the face
I'm off the meds, I'm out of my brain
Two bricks of heroin for my chain
Skinny ass jeans but I still
Got the Glock in 'em
Niggas rap like killers but
They never shot niggas
You ain't good in the trap
Boy you really a shoplifter
Switch hit if you think you gon
Try one of my niggas
Pointers in chain will fuck up your eyelids

Glock on my hip, this my permanent side bitch
Dawg Shit Records
Bring yo ass to the dog pit
I was just fucked up, down bad, crawlin'
Shooter had a mask, but they said they saw me
Big brother Freddy with a slab in the Audi
Auntie want a sleeve every time she call me
Took a lot of losses
To the game I charged it
My back on the wall
That's when I go the hardest
Niggas still in the street
Not a regular artist
I only feel numb when I'm on narcotics
I pull up in Levante, the bitch look robotic

I don't windowshop, Imma buy if I like it
When cuz off the boot
He gon turn to a sniper
Driving the motherfucker like it's a Viper
I was just in the yard
Spinnin' round with the lifers
Real top dawg
Y'all don't know a nigga like me
Turn nothing to something and them
Niggas don't like it
I move tight with the trap
Trying to duck an indictment
Bitch, the flood on my neck
Think I'm signed to So Icey
Oldhead put a young nigga on the ice
He said he made 25 ounces in a night
Junkies in the hood go crazy for meth
I walk in this bitch like the new BMF
You ain't gotta lie to me, nigga
Be yourself
It's a big ass Glock in my BB belt

Praying on my downfall
They wanna see me fail
Brodie finna send me 20 in the mail
I'm trying to fit them bitches on the scale
This ain't from the middle of the shelf
Pap came home on some other shit
I walked in parole, I was fresh as hell
Blew a big ass blunt before I got
There, I know the secretary like
"What's that smell?"
Chain big as a Suburban truck
Pap pull up, jump out Suburban truck
I'm high as shit trying to swerve in one
Swing this bitch and hit
The curb or somethin'