Letra de Rule No. 1 - DD Osama

Know what the fuck goin' on, nigga

The future

14, 17

(That's nasty)

Bow, bow-bow

(Yo, Lucas, you heard?)

Bow, bow-bow

Like, why is they playin' wit' my body? (Like, what?)

What they smokin' on Notti? (No, they not)

Like, what they smokin' on Dot? (No, they not)

If they smokin' on bro, send 'em up with Lotti (Lotti)

I remember them nights, takin' trips (I remember)

Me and Notti totin' on that stick, saw an opp, threw a shot, and we made 'em run Rick, like

He was buggin', tryin' to make 'em a spliff (Bow, bow-bow, on bro)

Niggas be actin' real crazy, like

Like, whole time, they not

When I bring out my .30, I pass it to Loc, cause I know he gon' get 'em, he gon get 'em shot (Bow, bow-bow)

'member days posted up on the Ave, young lil nigga tryna get 'em a bag

He ain't have nun', so he had to go trap, started buggin', and flippin' them packs

Nowadays, see the face of this shit, he can go to Dior, get whatever he get

Can't a nigga say nothin', 'cause he buy his own shit

Saw the opps in the V, they ain't parkin' that whip (Bow, bow)

They ain't parkin' that whip, like

He gon' tweak, he gon' throw about 6

He lost his brother, he ain't goin' for shit

Before they take a hit, put one in the spliff (Put one in the spliff, nigga)

Rule number one, you go on that drill, you better pull that trigger

Rule number two, you gotta watch out for the D's

Move tact, they always out to get you

Rule number three, it should've been rule number one

Thank god, you made it out the picture

If not, that bullet flyin' would've hit you (Bow, bow)

Now your mother cryin', cause she miss you (Cause she miss you)

Now we back on that block

I'm outside, so my killy's totin' on that knock

Move rogue when I pump, cause I'm gon' get you got

Bow, bow-bow

We gon' say you off to god

Dudey' the threat, and I gave him that name

He took trips so he gettin' that chain

Forget about R.G., BLOODIE, Banga

These are my niggas that'll let it bang

Better make sure they lock back door

If not, you gettin' sent to the Lord

Niggas be greedy, you give 'em a hand

Whole time they'll snake you and bite a hand off, like

They'll bite a hand off

Even after you done give 'em clothes

I will never trust a nigga, no

We get slime, we the ones that be wipin' they nose

Rule number one, you go on that drill, you better pull that trigger

Rule number two, you gotta watch out for the D's

Move tact, they always out to get you

Rule number three, it should've been rule number one

Thank god, you made it out the picture

If not, that bullet flyin' would've hit you (Bow, bow)

Now your mother cryin', cause she miss you (Cause she miss you)

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