Rambo Lyrics by Digga D & Hotboii
(ITCHY made this shit)
Yo, yo
Blood on my rambo, blood on my kitchen (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Blood on my cutlass, blood on my flick ting (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I had his flesh on my knife when I dipped him
Swung at his face and ripped it (Ching, ching)
Swung at his face and ripped it (Swung, swung, swung)
Go to Dior, we all in the mall with switches (Grr, grr, grr, grr)
Got money, I know how to get it
‘Cause where I come from, it’s only right that we get it (Yo, grr, grr, grr, grr)
Rest up Rose, free Jojo (Rest up, rest up)
Shout out Rack5, StillBrickin and Oso (Oso)
All of my guys, take lives, they loco (Loco)
Drac’ on the show, man, the meanin’ of and the yolo (Hold up)
I’m in America, still strapped with a Beretta (Ayy)
Ain’t leavin’ my knife, that’s the London in me (Me)
I’ll take out your flesh, try troublin’ me (Try tryin’)
I got [?] want to know, just touch him and see
The first one the mandem caught was a miskeen (First one)
I can’t blame them, they were young, only fifteen (Fifteen)
Went to Dubai and somethin’ got sliced
Had the whole of the UK causin’ a big scene
Landed in M.I.A., left from Heathrow (Heathrow)
I’m in the USA, I need me a freak hoe
I wouldn’t mind Rubi Rose or DreamDoll
Back it up, slap it up, drop a lil’ deep throat
Blood- Blood on my rambo, blood on my kitchen (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Blood on my cutlass, blood on my flick ting (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I had his flesh on my knife when I dipped him
Swung at his face and ripped it (Ching, ching)
Swung at his face and ripped it (Swung, swung, swung)
Go to Dior, we all in the mall with switches (Grr, grr, grr, grr)
Got money, I know how to get it
‘Cause where I come from, it’s only right that we get it (Grr, grr, grr, grr)
It’s only right that we get it (Grrah, grrah)
Only be right that all the Glocks got switches (Bap, bap)
I know it ain’t no more semis
Automatic come through where everbody get it (Grr, grr, bap)
You ain’t gotta move, you can get hit (Bow, bow)
Catch me at the Zoo’, Z, 26′ (Grr, bow)
Boy, you a fool, why you flyin’ bricks?
Stuck in my coupe, givin’ you kiss
Now I got rich, I can fuck whoever (Yeah, yeah)
I got them bands, like bread, I spread ’em (Yeah, yeah)
And nothin’ but blues on my schedule (Bow, bow)
I play phantom, oh no, not ever (Bow, bow)
I spin, no lack, grr, go wet ’em (Bow, bow)
I still am up five on the devil (Bow, bow)
He got blood all on his sweater (Grr, grr, grr, grr)
Blood— Blood on my rambo, blood on my kitchen
Blood on my cutlass, blood on my flick ting (Ayy)
I had his flesh on my knife when I dipped him (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
Swung at his face and ripped it (Ayy)
Swung at his face and ripped it (Swung, swung, swung)
Go to Dior, we all in the mall with switches (Grr, grr, grr, grr)
Got money, I know how to get it
‘Cause where I come from, it’s only right that we get it (Grr, rrr, rrr, rrr)
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