T.I. Feat. Young Thug - Ring

Lyrics

Yeah
DY crazy
You young Gs and OGs, you know
DJ on the beat so it's a banger
That choppa go

I let it ring (Brrr)
You know what I mean (Yeah)
I don't drink green (Uh uh)
I need my green (Let's go)
I just wanna cum on her, (What?) face and her spleen (Eugh)
I just wanna let this bitch, (What?) let this bitch ring (Brrr, brrr)

When shit get wrong, it can't go right
I've been known to get shit blown outta proportion
Be careful what you about it, 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

Yeah, I been acting hard
I send 'em to God (I send 'em to God)
My dog like dodge (Aye)
They pull up and charge (They pull up and charge)
I'm riding the ten speed, (Skrr) it's hard to pull out the 'rage (Yeah)
It's  I'm fucking your daughtеrs (Yeah)
They twins, I'm Mr. Rogers

Now it's a problеm with a hundred thousand dollars in the truck
Ain't talk shit, we follow them punks
You cross that line, everybody getting ducked
Fast forward twenty five years, and I grew up
Nigga talk shit, don't do shit to 'em
Press Atlanta, your string get pulled
Got a problem, bring it to 'em
Just don't be so immature

I let it ring (Brrr)
You know what I mean (Yeah)
I don't drink green (Uh uh)
I need my green (Let's go)
I just wanna cum on her, (What?) face and her spleen (Eugh)
I just wanna let this bitch, (What?) let this bitch ring (Brrr, brrr)

When shit get wrong, it can't go right
I've been known to get shit blown outta proportion
Be careful what you about it, 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

This shit on sight, I blame it on strike
I blame it on ice, I blame it on drink
I took a lil' X, I fuck on my ex
I did a lil' wrong, I'm making it right
Where did he go, he ran out back
He must've ran track, I slash 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 neck
I busted on her lips, but not her back
It's not my bitch, it's not my neck
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
Them my lewis, and them my Slatts
And that's my car and that's my bitch

Ain't none of your concern, keep me outta that shit, nigga
All on my dick, tryna follow my bitch
If you catch me in Vegas, I'ma catch a new case
Fifty niggas with you and i'ma be in your face
Nigga think this shit a game, bet his ass get stabbed
Nineteen in the clip, let his ass get had
Best case scenario, get your ass kidnapped
Worst case, end up in a plastic bag
Without order there is chaos
Never let 'em handle a nigga
Motherfuckin' player, I do it like in Atlanta, nigga
You do that shit for IG and the fucking camera
You 'gon be happy 'till someone teach you some fucking manners
Ha, ha, ha, ha

When shit get wrong, it can't go right
I've been known to get shit blown outta proportion
Be careful what you about it, 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

I let it ring (Brrr)
You know what I mean (Yeah)
I don't drink green (Uh uh)
I need my green (Let's go)
I just wanna cum on her, (What?) face and her spleen (Eugh)
I just wanna let this bitch (What?) let this bitch ring (Brrr, brrr)

You know what the fuck going on with us, man