Rey Mysterio lyrics

[Intro: YN Jay]
(It's a Wayne beat)
Hold on (Is this K Dinero?)

[Verse 1: YN Jay]
I just pulled up with dogsh*t, look like hogsh*t
I just shoot my shot from the three, it was all wrist
I just hit her on my tippy-toes, she a tall b*tch
I probably got your b*tch number on my call list
Make your b*tch wait for two hours, on my stall sh*t
Keep a shotgun behind the counter, on my Paw sh*t
Cross a n*gga up like I'm Chris, on my Paul sh*t
Hah, why you do that, Jay?
b*tch let me f*ck because I'm, yeah, 'cause I'm the Coochie Man
Hah
Walked in with my coochie friends, it's a coochie group
b*tch, I don't wanna get no head, what that coochie do?
Ooh-ah
I'll get to growlin' in this b*tch like a lion do
.223s make your car stop like a siren do
b*tch, your eye keep twitchin', who you lyin' to?
You ain't know I had a record label? Who you signin' to?
When I'm in the kitchen, I bе cookin', think I'm fryin' food
I don't take pictures, when I shoot, I need a stabilizеr
How you hit the road with no money? You can't pay a driver
I'll tie a pus*y n*gga up with a cable wire
[Verse 2: Rio Da Yung OG]
I just got into it with my lil' b*tch 'cause I came inside her
I might pull up in a long white van like a cable driver
We really bite, we don't bark, you an ankle-biter
Tryna redecorate my new crib, I went table shoppin'
Ain't been on Big Beaver in a minute, I'm on Maple shoppin'
Yeah, you know I had to hit Revive
Drop thirty shots and spin around, see if he still alive
I got tremendous aim with the Glock, I can hit a fly
Hit a lame n*gga in the top with the chop, he got his skillet fried
I'll get to poppin' everywhere like when chicken fryin'
The plug just threw me one bird, it's a chicken flyin'
Baby, stop tryna touch my di*k, four-nickel by it
Grab the best pot out granny kitchen, drop a zip inside it

[Verse 3: YN Jay & Rio Da Yung OG]
f*ckin' this b*tch real good, you see my hip providin'
Seventeen in each pocket, you see a brick divided
I ain't prepare to hit the n*gga in his head, I had to improvise
This is my 2020 'Lac, this is not Enterprise's
I might drop an AMG truck and let my b*tch drive it
Whip my di*k out in the dark, let my b*tch find it
My b*tch cheated, I wasn't trippin', uh-uh, uh-uh
My b*tch cheatin', I wasn't, uh
My b*tch cheated, I wasn't trippin', but she poured my drank out, I was finna fight her
I done f*cked every b*tch in Michigan 'cause I trick sometimes
I don't wanna f*ck when I'm off lean 'cause I get tired
Light a n*gga up, one strike, that's a big lighter
I really like to break down, but I sold a brick one time
Cars just came in the mail from the 619
Shot two hoes fightin' at the club, the big one died
Asked me why I drink a lot of cough syrup, 'cause I be sick sometimes
I ain't never sold no (Ah)
I ain't never sold no (Roof), but I sold a pill one time
I don't know Rey Mysterio, but I'ma 619
I need to buy a Rolex 'cause I forget my time
I can't forget my iron, iron (Hah)
Alright, yeah
I don't got on wrinkled clothes, I can't forget my iron
I can't leave my people at the bottom, can't forget my tribe
b*tch asked me what's my zodiac? Don't forget my sign
Drunk as hell talkin' to my b*tch, I forget my lie
[Interlude: Rio Da Yung OG]
Yeah, let me tell you
Alright, multitask when I went in, when I went
Alright, multitask when I, ah
I could roll
I could roll a blunt
Alright, watch this

[Verse 4: Rio Da Yung OG]
I could roll a blunt, text my b*tch, drive, and shoot the stick
Take the PLR, disturb the peace, no Ludacris
I just took a bougie b*tch to Bucharest
You probably hit me up last night, but I ain't see the text
My jeweler said I can't get another chain 'cause he need some rest

[Outro: Rio Da Yung OG]
Ah, let me up, I need to stretch
f*ck her with my gun in my hand, havin' evil sex
f*ck, her, yeah
Her bad-ass son touched my Palm Angels shirt, now I got Cheeto prints
Yeah
Burn the scene up after I bust, they ain't see no prints, man
And I'll throw a— ball on my Tebow sh*t, alright
f*ck around and have to— the pizza man, on my T.O. sh*t, ooh
And I'll drop a n*gga every Tuesday, on my P.O. sh*t, n*gga, yeah
And I got my chain from Golden Sun, let me see your sh*t
Yeah, and thirty racks for the watch, let me see your wrist, yeah
n*gga, and I only drink Wock', you can keep your Tris, yeah
And just sent me ten lines of that, you can keep your six, alright
Y'all n*ggas don't be on sh*t, yeah