[Chorus: Rich The Kid]
We pullin’ up with no invitation
I finally made it, it’s no debatin’
Might walk with a hundred for motivation
My bitches they fuck off a conversation
Told y’all Rich Forever …
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I tell these niggas take notes, man
Nigga like, “fuck graduating,“ nigga sellin’ coke
That’s a fucked up logic, man
And these hoes, right, fuckin’ for new bags
You lame rappers, you was from a real Piru
Married to the game, “I do”
I’m ridin’ through in that chicken coop
‘Dem birds in it when I’m slidin’ through
Can’t finesse a brick like I do
You lil niggas can’t walk a mile in my footsteps
Pussy, we don’t wear the same size shoe
Punch him in his face, feed him chicken soup
Surgeries in that institute
Record his ass while I whoop his ass
And put it on my album as the interlude
My circle tighter than an inner tube
Always talkin’, what you finna do?
I think you lame, [?]
Rapper on too many chemicals
Where the fuck is y’all principles?
This Brick Squad, I’m the general
Middle finger grab my genitals
Why the fuck my niece in the news?
Always talkin’, “What Flocka doin’?”
Always talkin’, “What Waka doin’?”
Countin’ money, bitch I’m thumbing through it
You got a problem, bitch I’m comin’ to it
Pullin’ up with a couple shooters
I could give a fuck about this fuckin’ music
I’ll fuck you up and there’s nothin’ to it
Whole squad ridin’ like a fuckin’ Buick
I know I’m winning but I fuckin’ lose it
And beat the case cause my lawyer Jewish
Grimy nigga came from the sewage
Put them hands on you like [?]
Really [?] if you diss me, bitch
Then it’s a wrap like Christmas gifts
It’s arithmetic, I’mma hit the lick
We gon snatch the bag, then split the chips
Out in Colorado, go and fuck with [?]
VBS is on me, never tuck it in
The haters out, but the love is in
Makin’ major flips like a butter rim (Flex!)
Fuckin’ up the dough cause I can’t cook
So I made a million on Facebook
So underrated, feel like Westbrook
I’m runnin’ plays, it’s textbook
Coupla rappers solid but the rest shook
They say I can’t rap, so I came back
With dumb punchlines, gave ’em left hooks
Back from the dead, I’m [?]
[?] I’m here, John Doe
I feel like young Scooter, no convo
Watch out for snakes, keep the lawn mowed
Why these niggas thinkin’ that they Pablo?
Cause they watched an episode of Narcos
This is real life, shut the fuck up
And you lyrical niggas
Caught a case now you spiritual, niggas?
The feds put some [?] in you, nigga?
What they put years on you, nigga?
Yo I see a tear droppin, nigga?
[?] that nigga?
I take the [?], my nigga
Loyalty real, my nigga
Fuck all these niggas, man
Just turned 30, man
So how old you think your favorite rapper is, man?
[?] niggas in middle school
Move over, grandaddy
Should call it Flockaveli 2
Gang gang (Crew!)