Kishore Kumar Hits

Rich The Kid - Prada (feat. Polo G) - Remix şarkı sözleri

Sanatçı: Rich The Kid

albüm: Prada (feat. Polo G) [Remix]


Space'
Okay, okay
Yeah, we still Rich Forever
Yeah (ADHD)
I been wakin' up to racks, bitch (bitch)
Quarter milli', need a rack lift
My lil' nigga let the MAC rip (chop, chop, chop)
Left a baby on her bottom lip (lip)
Most of these hoes get hit and get flipped
Most of these niggas ain't real, can't trip
Pardon me, bought a Prada fit
Gettin' money, like a lot of it, okay
Walk through in Egypt with 300 (300)
Pull out her bed, then I sleep on it (I sleep on it)
Pull out my dick, and she eat on it (eat on it)
She a lil' freak and she suckin', no teeth on it
I was dead broke, had to sleep on the couch
Pull out the Lamb' with the keys to the house
On the way to your bitch, had to reroute (reroute)
And the money keep comin' like fuck a drought (fuck it)
Baguettes, baguettes
Bitch see my neck and my wrist and she ready
Pop up on her late night like Freddy
I'ma cut the bitch off, machete
My lil' nigga let the MAC rip
Seen an opp, hit the whole clip
Think he flexin', but this old drip
I'm tryna buy a brick with poker chips
Blow a bag at Saks, can't go to Barneys (yeah)
I got too many racks on me (woo)
I done said that my coupe is retarded (retarded)
Like damn, I can't even start it, valet can't park it (damn)
Gettin' more bags than a market (bags)
Put it on his head, a target
Nigga wan' run with the opps that he thought was the opps
We gon' mop him and chalk him
I been wakin' up to racks, bitch (racks, bitch)
Quarter milli', need a rack lift
My lil' nigga let the MAC rip
Left a baby on her bottom lip (lip)
Most of these hoes get hit and get flipped
Most of these niggas ain't real, can't trip
Pardon me, bought a Prada fit
Gettin' money, like a lot of it, okay
Uh, spent the lil' bag on these Maison Margielas
Walk in the bank, I'm withdrawin' whatever
"Need like an M", what I told to the teller
'Member was trappin' no matter the weather
Talkin' my shit 'cause I been doin' better
Glock with a stick, we ain't grippin' Berettas
Them murderers lit, we Too Turnt forever
Surgical shit, we'll get you together (uh)
I make a call, them killers en route
We been lampin', it ain't hard to figure you out
Tracy campin' outside of that lil' nigga house
Doin' damage, them hollows keep hittin' his scalp
1300 the gang, and I put us on the map
Come and see what my niggas about
We don't fuck with no lames
Bitches don't come to the telly to fuck, then we kickin' 'em out
But 'cause Polo my name, she do whatever I want
I just put my whole dick in her mouth
Let that .40 go bang
We put his ass in the grave, and they wish they can go dig him out
My lil' nigga let the Drac' spit, say less, we don't ever say shit
Shoot it out, check out my J, bitch
Ballin' on 'em, James Naismith (ball, ball, ball, ball, ball)
I been wakin' up to racks, bitch (racks, bitch)
Quarter milli', need a rack lift
My lil' nigga let the MAC rip
Left a baby on her bottom lip (lip)
Most of these hoes get hit and get flipped
Most of these niggas ain't real, can't trip
Pardon me, bought a Prada fit
Gettin' money, like a lot of it, okay
Okay, okay, okay

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