Practice - Rio Da Yung Og

Practice

Rio Da Yung Og

00:00

02:28

Song Introduction

"Rio Da Yung OG, an influential figure in the hip-hop scene, released his track 'Practice' as part of his latest repertoire. The song features his distinctive lyrical style and energetic flow, blending contemporary beats with authentic storytelling. 'Practice' has been praised for its catchy hooks and relatable themes, showcasing Rio Da Yung OG's growth as an artist and solidifying his presence in the music industry."

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Lyric

(It's a Wayne beat)

Twenty racks cash, a pint of, alright

Yeah, Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga

Twenty racks cash, a pint of glass, and a K on me

Told kid dog should just claim KrispyLife, I put a K on him

Put a lot of ice in the cup, pour an eight on it

Drinkin' fours of Wock' every day, puttin' weight on me

Oh, we was talkin' 'bout a gun? mine stay on me

Last year I told my Cali bitch I'm comin' west

She still waitin' on me

Treat they block like a blank canvas, I'ma paint on it

I thought you poured a deuce in here, why I don't taste nothin'?

Million dollars cash, any less is unacceptable

Tryna fuck, but she text back too fast, kinda skeptical

If I had a life jacket and you was drownin', I wouldn't rescue you

Walk up on a random bitch, I wanna have sex with you

Look, bitch, if you ain't tryna book a show, I ain't textin' you

Bitch, I know you fucked Ray, I ain't question you

I wanna buy a pint of eight, a six, and an extra two

Oh, your brother from the Regencys, I can't mess with you

I'm in a trash bag, man, y'all niggas in a store bag

Seen Mike with a half a 'bow and bought the whole bag

I feel like Joe, I got a bunch of hoes like for sure Mag

Can't believe Michael kids sold the drank, man, I'm so mad

I just left out niggas' hood, I'm finna go back

Nigga, you wasn't really in the hood, that's a throwback

I'm always the first to start shootin', I don't blow back

I know I got two pints of Wock', where some more at?

I just cut into Jasmine, where Simone at?

I be walkin' up on random hoes like, where your phone at?

Seen Lil D drop thirty shots where the store at

Me and Lil E drunk forty pops, why we so fat

You only got thirty-five hundred for a verse, I don't want that

Oh, you ain't get your weed from A1? I can't smoke that

Last nigga parked his shoes here got a toetag

Fuck around and bought an eight of cut

Drunk two deuces, took a four back

In a nigga hood, down south sellin' dope sacks

Askin' all the bad ratchet hoes where the store at

Alright, I already fucked Cakes, where Moe at?

Fuck around and wake a bitch up like, where your clothes at?

Your nigga wear court jeans, I don't even wear Amiri

Niggas wearin' lab diamonds, lookin' so silly

I don't carry four-fives no more, only ten millis

Had twenty hoes, left 'em all, only ten miss me

Oh, the nigga actin' freaky? FN kiss him

Tongue kiss, got a drum kit, that's a big fifty

Today, I'm blessin', buy a drumstick and get six biscuits

Young bitch asked a dumb question, I dismissed her

Bum bitch with some small Uggs and some big Miss Mes

The life I live, should've been with Kidd, 'cause my fit crispy

Just sold dog a cut line of red for like six-fifty

Hundred Percocets, takin' forty, I'ma flip sixty

Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga, you know what the fuck goin' on

I ain't even mean to do this song for real

This was a mistake

Yeah

- It's already the end -