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letra de rental cars (radarada) - li rye

[intro]
(crackhouse)
(chino, what’s in your cup?)
(who the h-ll is carlo?)

[chorus]
late night stalkin’, we outside your house and it’s too late for talkin’
tried to spin, we hit with fns, know we had to park him
catch him with his friends, rrah, that’s what you get for walkin’
catch him with his friends, rrah, that’s what you get for walkin’
we ride ’round in five-percent tint on the rental cars
i been geeked up, mixin’ percocet with xanax bars
f-ckin’ with them eagles, i just left a party with the stars
high as f-ck, i can’t find earth, i might just land on mars

[verse 1]
booted up, no steel-toes
i catch you outside with your b-tch, i ain’t sparin’ sh-t, we k!ll hoes
you know we sneak disser k, yeah, b-tch, we k!ll those
i’m big 26k, that’s what i’ll k!ll for, n-gga
i tote guns in rеal life, not just on a triller
b-tch, i belong in thе zoo, i’m a real gorilla
i take percs on the daily, i’m a pop piller
ooh, i meant pill popper
when i’m ’round a bad b-tch, i get real proper
in the srt, just kissed the curb, had to hit the throttle
in love with lean, i might f-ck around and drink it out the bottle
get too high, then i go r-t-rded, start sayin’, “radarada”
i be with some dread head k!llers, yeah, them rasta-rastas
we don’t tote sh-t but chopper-choppers
my big brother a noodle knocker
ah, ah, ah, ah
you know we, you—
i hate when n-ggas act like we ain’t known for—
[chorus]
late night stalkin’, we outside your house and it’s too late for talkin’
tried to spin, we hit with fns, know we had to park him
catch him with his friends, rrah, that’s what you get for walkin’
catch him with his friends, rrah, that’s what you get for walkin’
we ride ’round in five-percent tint on the rental cars
i been geeked up, mixin’ percocet with xanax bars
f-ckin’ with them eagles, i just left a party with the stars
high as f-ck, i can’t find earth, i might just land on mars

[verse 2]
just got off the phone with my n-gga foreign talkin’ ’bout them m’s
n-ggas know we k!ll sh-t, won’t spare him when i see him
i’d hate to be my opps, i swear to god, wouldn’t wanna be ’em
the bro so motherf-ckin’ heartless, he’ll murder a n-gga bm

[outro]
rrah, rrah, rrah
big 26k sh-t, n-gga
you feel me?

- li rye

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