RANDY ORTON Lyrics

I come out the cut like Randy Orton, niggas terrified, trap scorching, zipfair servin

all the time

We made a fortune, we pouring line for line

We going to trial taking no pleas, ain't doing all that time

Rat ass niggas mad they ain't eating, you ain't even on no grind

Bust a bell, where ya scale , boy you're hell, nine to five

I push a bag out ATL, I'm balling overtime

I wish I would go like a simp, I'm pimping if she fine

Body slam yo bitch I pinned her down, this the summer slam

I might party with the fans, I'm trying to rock summer jam

Creep up, I don't think them boys peeped us, best pray my 40 jam

I was in the jam setting links up, my bitch gon' move the gram

Niggas on the gram, bapping, we live in the static

Hollup switch this bitch from semi fully automatic

Hey

I ain't have my mind, I had my nine, back to back crashing

I just fucked up Neiman's, fucked up sacks, I'm fucking fashion

Hop out with that trey pound, leave one face down, walk off laughing

Pop out with the takedown, got a gift for you, you might wrap it

Clock out, I don't know how I be working, bitch I'm cashing

Never forget loyalty, I'm blitzing bout my family

I hype up my ratchet, extend on mag and beams

Don't remember what happened, I think I killed the scene

Randy Orton, niggas terrified

Trap scorching, I come out the cut like Randy Orton

Trap scorching, ain't doing all that time

Rat ass niggas mad they ain't eating, he ain't even on no grind