Lil Yachty – “Plastic” (ft. Icewear Vezzo & Rio Da Yung OG) [Audio, Lyrics, Video]

American rapper, premieres the visual for the -produced “” song featuring & . Watch the video, listen, stream, buy, read the lyrics, mp3 download.

Already breaking the norm by nearing five minutes in runtime, the dark piano-driven banger is undeniably hard off the bat. The video matches the energy effectively, despite being relatively straightforward. There is a bit of stylistic flourish by way of the unconventional aspect ratio, but for the most part, it’s the standard performance footage complete with support from the entourage on deck. While some might have wished “Plastic” could have gotten a bit more conceptual, the current video successfully captures the song’s raw energy.

Lil Yachty – Plastic (ft. Icewear Vezzo & Rio Da Yung OG) (prod. Reuel)

Lyrics

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[Intro: Lil Yachty]
(Reuel, stop playin’ with these niggas)
It’s us
Damn, damn
Damn
It’s us

[Verse 1: Lil Yachty]
Me and Vezzo don’t do double cups, yeah, we triple stackin’ it
Lucky I came in with my bitch, them hoes, I would’ve cracked ’em
Last nigga speak on my name (What?), a random person jacked him (Yeah)
If I die, I’ll be on CNN like Michael Jackson
Not ’cause I died, but who I brought with me
Don’t let my bitch drink at all in case I need a kidney
Double R parked right outside like a raisin in the sun
Sheriff pulled me over skeptical ’cause all my legal guns
I’m backwards, I got rich off of music and got illegal funds
Why this stripper, she ain’t let me fuck? Still kept all the ones (Damn)
Damn (Damn), and I ain’t no sucker (Damn)
House by the lake with the views opposite from Tucker (Damn)
This nigga pussy, goin’ out bad just like no other
My shooter ain’t got no sense, he stole from his mother
How you know I fuck your bitch, you still call me brother? (Damn)
You niggas, niggas different (Damn, damn)
Why I’m so specific (Go)
Backyard look Pacific (Go)
Heavy on my pivot, uh (Go)
Hit the frog sweat, now my cup look like a midget, huh (Damn, damn)
Geeked up off the medics
Said it, then I meant it
Cops ask me questions, I’m Cole Bennett, I ain’t in it (Woo)
The way that Vezzo drive his Wraith, could tell he ain’t rent it

[Verse 2: Icewear Veezo]
We gon’ hit them boys
Hundred hangin’ out the chop, look like a mixin’ board (Like I’m mixin’)
All my opps be broke as fuck, they need to fix them boys (Niggas fucked up)
Knock the power out that F&N, I need to switch the cord (I need to switch the cord)
Bitch, I love to switch my fashion
Lit the Patek, I got sixty glasses in my kitchen cabinet (That Hi-Tech)
I just bought another Rollie up at Golden Sun (Gold)
Poured a four in a one-liter, that’s a forty-one (Drank God)
We just upped the score again, them niggas oh-and-one (Niggas losers)
They think cuddy marchin’ for a band, the way he blow that drum
Mix the Louis with the Fendi, I be mix-matchin’ (Yeah)
The clip look longer than the Glock, they think the stick backwards
I drop dirty at probation, I just piss Actavis (No cap)
Used to trap right on the Horn, now I got six mansions
Shoot the Chrome Heart off his hoodie, that’s how he drip fashion (Leave him leakin’)
This bitch asked me was I broke? Oh, that’s a trick question (Stupid ho)
Put the Karo with the water, bitch, I mix classics (Skrrt)

[Verse 3: Rio Da Yung OG]
Gen5 Glock 19, thirty clip saggin’
Amiri joggin’ fit, dumb bitch, I hit licks in fashion
Last nigga I popped up, I had on Big Bastard
Oversized Virgil Abloh hoodie, this a big jacket
Damn near three racks for the varsity with the big patches
Jumped out with thirty clip, hawked him down, he kept zig-zaggin’
Ran up on him, when he hit the ground, pushed his shit backwards
Real lean plug, nigga, I could still get Acty
Rubber band AP on thirty racks if a bitch askin’
If you ever seen me run from a nigga, I shot the stick backwards
Made dog shit off spittin’ fire out my mouth, call me big dragon
Oh, we was talkin’ ’bout white buffs? Lou got six glasses
Plug got five seals, eight quarter pints, and six glasses
Ho tried to leave me, shot her car up and broke the bitch chassis
Eight lines of Wock’ in one cup, we sip molasses
Drive the bitch car and get some head, damn, I’m finna crash it
That gold ‘Dweller fifty-six plain, think I’m finna grab it
Thirty racks hangin’ out my pocket, got me feelin’ chatty
My city small, nigga think he gettin’ away, I can get the addy
I don’t really be fuckin’ with the Percs, but I can get the Xannies
My shooter got ADHD, he’ll kill you for a script of Addys
I was finna fuck my bitch mom, but I can hit the granny
You ain’t never had a glass pint of red, it came in a casket
My fiend call me for a twenty stone, I came with a basket
I’m takin’ niggas’ guns in the club, I came with a magnet

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