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Ring (feat. Young Thug) [explicit] letra


Yeah
(DY Krazy)
Few young G's and OG's, you know
(DJ on the beat so it's a banger)
That choppa, though

I let it ring (brr), you know that I mean (yeah)
I don't drink green (uh-uh), I need my cream (let's go)
I just wanna cum on her (what?), her face and her spleen (ugh-ugh)
I just wanna let that bitch (what?), let that bitch ring (huh-huh)

When shit get wrong, it can't go right
Now I've been known to get shit blown
Up out of proportion, bomb on site
Be careful with your body, put that on ice
I'm not gon' tweet, I'm not gon' type
Whatever you say, okay, alright
You pick your fate, you pay your price
Just know I do not play, alright, alright

Lil' buddy acting hard (what?)
I'll send him to God (I'll send him to God)
My dawgs like Dodge (ayy)
They pull up and charge (pull up and ayy)
I'm ridin' in the ten speed (skrrt)
It's hard to pull out the 'rage (yeah)
It's dark, I'm fuckin' your daughters (yeah)
They twins, I'm mister Rogers

'96 Impala with a hundred thousand dollars in the trunk
They talk shit, we follow them punks
They cross that line, then bodies gettin' dumped
Fast forward twenty-five years, and I grew up
Nigga talk shit, don't do shit to him
Press that line and your string get pulled
Got a problem, bring it to him
Just don't be so immature

I let it ring (brr), you know that I mean (yeah)
I don't drink green (uh-uh), I need my cream (let's go)
I just wanna cum on her (what?), her face and her spleen (ugh-ugh)
I just wanna let that bitch (what?), let that bitch ring (huh-huh)

When shit get wrong, it can't go right
Now I've been known to get shit blown
Up out of proportion, bomb on site
Be careful with your body, put that on ice
I'm not gon' tweet, I'm not gon' type
Whatever you say, okay, alright
You pick your fate, you pay your price
Just know I do not play, alright, alright

Shoot you on sight, don't blame it on Sprite
Don't blame it on ice, don't blame it on drank
I took a lil' X, I fuck on my ex
I did a lil' wrong, I'm makin' it right
Where did he go? He ran out back
He must've ran track, I splat his back
I got war wounds under my tats
I got a few bloods, they all say: Slatt
I got a few crips, they all on Old Nat
I bust on her lips, but not her back
That's not my bitch, that's not my nat
I'm just her pimp, I'm not her dad
The cops pulled me over, they smelled my thrax
It's not my gat, but them my racks
And them my Louis and them my slacks
And this my car and that's my bitch

Ain't none of my concern, keep me outta that shit
Nigga all on my dick, tryna follow my bitch
If I catch him in Vegas, I'ma catch a new case
Fifty niggas with you, I'ma be in your face
Nigga thinkin' shit a game, bet his ass get stabbed
Nineteen in the clip, let his ass get half
Best case scenario, get your ass kicked, man
Worst case, end up in a plastic bag
With no order, there is chaos, never let 'em handle, nigga
Motherfuckin' player, I do it like an Atlanta nigga
You do that shit for IG and the fuckin' camera
You won't be happy till someone teach you some fuckin' manners

When shit get wrong, it can't go right
Now I've been known to get shit blown
Up out of proportion, bomb on site
Be careful with your body, put that on ice
I'm not gon' tweet, I'm not gon' type
Whatever you say, okay, alright
You pick your fate, you pay your price
Just know I do not play, alright, alright

I let it ring (brr), you know that I mean (yeah)
I don't drink green (uh-uh), I need my cream (let's go)
I just wanna cum on her (what?), her face and her spleen (ugh-ugh)
I just wanna let that bitch (what?), let that bitch ring (huh-huh)

You know what the fuck going on with us, man

T.I. - Letras

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