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Talkin Crazy - Rio Da Yung Og

Talkin Crazy

Rio Da Yung Og

00:00

03:30

Song Introduction

"Talkin Crazy" is a song by American rapper Rio Da Yung OG. Known for his distinctive blend of melodic flows and hard-hitting lyrics, Rio delivers a compelling narrative in "Talkin Crazy" that delves into themes of ambition, struggle, and resilience. The track showcases his ability to blend trap beats with introspective storytelling, resonating with fans of contemporary hip-hop. Released as part of his recent projects, "Talkin Crazy" has helped solidify Rio Da Yung OG's presence in the rap scene, highlighting his growth as an artist and his commitment to authentic expression.

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Lyric

(It's a Wayne beat)

What up, Wayne?

Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga

You know what the fuck goin' on

Yeah, we sippin' real Hi-Tech, nigga

They thought— aight

This a 41 millimeter

Niggas petty, buyin' ones, pouring milliliters

I got a zip of dog, stronger than some skillet cleaner

I ain't got time to box with you, I be killin' people

Take a nigga life without asking, I be stealin' people

I can fuck a bitch sister raw, bet she'd still eat it

I got an old K, longer than little people

This pint of red done turned brown on me, I'm still gon' drink it

You can't bе sayin' Ghetto Boyz, if you ain't write Peezy

I'm finna go on Livernois and sеrve these white people

By myself in a 550, I don't like people

I'ma pop you if you try me, I just told you I don't fight people

If the pussy smell good, then I might eat it

Hurry up and grab this pint from me, bro, I might drink it

Finna buy a 42 'Dweller and let Mike keep it

Hit your block with a K with the scope, call it sightseeing

Ion' think I'm from this planet, I'm an astronaut

I'll throw my whole career away, bro, pass the Glock

If you seen me with Lou, I was probably grabbin' Wock'

Put a deuce in a twenty-ounce Sprite and pour out half the pop

I was just posted on Fenton with a bag of rocks

Now I wake up in the morning bored, I might go grab a watch

I got an Arab who paid the high for these, you don't have to shop

You can still die, nigga, I don't care how many straps you got

I just made a lot of money, then I got bored

And, no, I'm not rich yet, but I'm not poor

Stop talkin' 'bout you slidin' in them songs, you did not score

Five niggas tried to jump on me, I shot four

Then I had to whip the other nigga ass

Eighty racks just on grass, you move another nigga bag

My side bitch called tryin' to fuck, her other nigga mad

Catch me on Greenfield at Golden Sun, hundred in the bag

Can't take the opps serious

Them niggas dropped a hundred and I laughed

I ain't gon' lie, I take Percocets 'cause I be cummin' fast

You tryna spend ten thou' right now? I'm comin' fast

If I see an opp out and I ain't strapped, I'ma punch his ass

The pint of red was talkin' back to me, I drunk his ass

I'm still tryna fuck big booty Ari, with her ugly ass

Don't know what kinda car I might get in, but it's somethin' fast

If I drop a hundred shots and they don't drop, then I'm comin' back

You ran a hundred up off EDD, you better thank Trump

Bitch ain't take a shower 'fore we fuck, she a stank butt

I just had two pints of juice, it got drank up

Me and Mike put the city on our back, y'all gotta thank us

Niggas mad, been rapping ten years and they ain't saved up

Now it's ten racks to get us on a track, I know they hate us

You know this shit-talkin' shit ain't—aight

You know this shit-talk— aight

You know this shit-talkin' ain't free, they gotta pay up

Just pull up and count the money up, the work weighed up

Two hundred racks off just rap, it took eight months

Two hundred Blacks back to back, I got great lungs

The way that bitch suck dick, she got eight tongues

Bitch keep the same panties on, she got eight thongs

Dropped an EP and made three hundred thousand off eight songs

My bitch titties fake, lips fake, and she got fake buns

Was finna shoot, then I passed bro the rock, he did a layup

We just popped an opp up at eight o'clock, fucked his day up

High off drank, but when I take Percocets, it help me stay up

I need this lil' nigga popped up, I hit Lil Tay up

Would you believe me if I told you I was sippin' red?

Would you believe me if I told you all the shit I did?

Would you believe me if I told you

I fucked her and ain't get the head?

Bitch sent a whole paragraph, I left the bitch on read

Tryna sleep with six hoes tonight, I need a bigger bed

I'll have Lil E chase you down, he got little legs

Bitch left me on stuck, I had little dreads

Now my money long, hair long, I got bigger bands

Tryna carry hundred K in dubs, I need bigger pants

You still tryna run a ten up, you need bigger plans, nigga

Ghetto Boyz Shit

Man, You know what the fuck going on

Free the whole ghetto, nigga

- It's already the end -