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RIPPER (feat. SnuS & Zealous) Video (MV)






Ricko - RIPPER (feat. SnuS & Zealous) Lyrics




The face of the modern punk
An ugly face to some, but what an eloquent and creative group of individuals they are
What they lack in brain matters between the ears
They make up for in colour on top
There's nothing quite like a song-song at home
Or a poetry recitation

Racks up, roll a pack, pour a pint then go
Never lack, don't chill with that bitch, she want your soul
I just rolled a zoot and now I need a reload
Ain't YSL, I'm chilling here with ricko

I got motion, don't spill that potion, don't pour no wok
I pour Tose' out, I pour that bells out
And f*ck these thots
Tell them man mosh now
Invest in shells cells now
Before you get shot
And these bitches call me Roddy how I'm beating at that box
Yeah I'm beating at that box
I f*ck that that and then I go home
Yeah that bitch was your girl
That's why she won't be qualified
Oh oh, I make her moan
Bitch she want moan
You got some racks now
You think you're bad now
Watch out fore you get turned to dust

Turn to christ and turn to god
Blood is falling, bitch I mosh
Cop the ice and got those rocks
Blood is falling, bitch I mosh
Got the kit on all my stocks
Blood is falling, bitch I mosh
Yeah them niggas fake sippin
No they ain't sippin on Tose

Yeah, yeah
I take a sip of this Wockhardt
Cause I need to go relax
Living life like a rockstar
Smash up all the track
I'm thinking homicide
I'm thinking how we die
I'm tryna feel alive
Gon' get high, like the sky

Wait
Settle down
I'm a king and I'ma count up on my crowns
I'ma ripper through the city with an ounce
Got a text, got a snap, got a bounce

Ay
Got a bounce, my boy just gave me a shout
She don't wanna f*ck with me before she knows what I'm about
If we got beef, then you know my boys sort that shit out
Violating my man, now I don't see him around
She moaning while we f*cking but I'm not making a sound

Not making a sound
Ay
Every time they see me, yeah, they running
I know f*cking why
Heavy weapons, Fetty Wap
I shoot him in his f*cking eye
Made him paralysed
When I shoot him in his f*cking spine
Not a force to be reckoned with
Hombre you realise

Three line of coke on her tits
Look like Adidas
I was in the city flipping packs
Jugging big racks
Don't know me in the club
But if they do we take a quick snap
I was off the X last night
I think I took a Send Nap

Yeah, yeah
She just text me on the insta
Should I post that?
I just got up Sam or Slumps
I asked if they could host that
Stacks, I cannot fold that
She asked if she could hold that
Bro, come get your hoe back
Bank, counting up old stacks
What's in my bag?
You know it's all cash, but I don't keep a shank
If it's a play, I run and I ran
I'm talking like Skiez cause I flew to Japan
If you ain't with it, go check on your man
And F*ck DJ Phattt, cause the man just a scam
Yeah, the man just a scam
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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The face of the modern punk
An ugly face to some, but what an eloquent and creative group of individuals they are
What they lack in brain matters between the ears
They make up for in colour on top
There's nothing quite like a song-song at home
Or a poetry recitation

Racks up, roll a pack, pour a pint then go
Never lack, don't chill with that bitch, she want your soul
I just rolled a zoot and now I need a reload
Ain't YSL, I'm chilling here with ricko

I got motion, don't spill that potion, don't pour no wok
I pour Tose' out, I pour that bells out
And f*ck these thots
Tell them man mosh now
Invest in shells cells now
Before you get shot
And these bitches call me Roddy how I'm beating at that box
Yeah I'm beating at that box
I f*ck that that and then I go home
Yeah that bitch was your girl
That's why she won't be qualified
Oh oh, I make her moan
Bitch she want moan
You got some racks now
You think you're bad now
Watch out fore you get turned to dust

Turn to christ and turn to god
Blood is falling, bitch I mosh
Cop the ice and got those rocks
Blood is falling, bitch I mosh
Got the kit on all my stocks
Blood is falling, bitch I mosh
Yeah them niggas fake sippin
No they ain't sippin on Tose

Yeah, yeah
I take a sip of this Wockhardt
Cause I need to go relax
Living life like a rockstar
Smash up all the track
I'm thinking homicide
I'm thinking how we die
I'm tryna feel alive
Gon' get high, like the sky

Wait
Settle down
I'm a king and I'ma count up on my crowns
I'ma ripper through the city with an ounce
Got a text, got a snap, got a bounce

Ay
Got a bounce, my boy just gave me a shout
She don't wanna f*ck with me before she knows what I'm about
If we got beef, then you know my boys sort that shit out
Violating my man, now I don't see him around
She moaning while we f*cking but I'm not making a sound

Not making a sound
Ay
Every time they see me, yeah, they running
I know f*cking why
Heavy weapons, Fetty Wap
I shoot him in his f*cking eye
Made him paralysed
When I shoot him in his f*cking spine
Not a force to be reckoned with
Hombre you realise

Three line of coke on her tits
Look like Adidas
I was in the city flipping packs
Jugging big racks
Don't know me in the club
But if they do we take a quick snap
I was off the X last night
I think I took a Send Nap

Yeah, yeah
She just text me on the insta
Should I post that?
I just got up Sam or Slumps
I asked if they could host that
Stacks, I cannot fold that
She asked if she could hold that
Bro, come get your hoe back
Bank, counting up old stacks
What's in my bag?
You know it's all cash, but I don't keep a shank
If it's a play, I run and I ran
I'm talking like Skiez cause I flew to Japan
If you ain't with it, go check on your man
And F*ck DJ Phattt, cause the man just a scam
Yeah, the man just a scam
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: James Richardson, Felix Katakana, Reece Asante
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Ricko

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