marathon - real boston richey lyrics
[intro]
hey, what’s up? where we eatin’?
benihana, ruth chris, steak, lobster?
sh*t, i was thinkin’ wendy’s (uh)
you need to boss your life up and turn on that new boston
at least he know how to treat a b*tch (known to let that mac fly just like my n*gga doe)
h*ll naw, f*ck that trick*ass n*gga (yeah)
you just a hatin’*ass n*gga, broke, dusty, musty, crusty (uh, come on)
you just hatin’ ’cause you don’t serve more bags than him (i’m like, uh)
[verse 1]
bae, you too bad for you not to have no bag, hold on
your n*gga up? why he ain’t spend no cash? uh
she pullin’ up, walk out with shopping bags, yeah
bae, i’m the realest n*gga you never had
ain’t sh*t to spend no cash
braggin’ on that n*gga, tell me what the f*ck he spent
i can go get ten bad b*tches that’ll tell you that i done spent
n*ggas fake trickin’, richey rich the real biggest trick
if i like a b*tch, i ain’t wastin’ time, i go and bust her wrist
all the bad b*tches want me
when you got that paper, it’ll turn a b*tch holy
you and your friends bad, buy you a rollie, rollie, rollie
why you braggin’ on that n*gga? bae, that p*ssy n*gga owe me
take my time with a bad b*tch, i gotta f*ck her slowly
when i bust you down put a hashtag and say, “he froze me”
this trickin’ sh*t go od
[chorus]
bae, you finer than a b*tch, you nothin’ like my last b*tch
catch a bad b*tch and spend it on her, that sh*t a habit
we ain’t runnin’ out of paper, stupid b*tch, we mad rich
braggin’ ’cause he got your hair done, we can tell who ain’t had sh*t
i’m too turnt to get her hair done
type of n*gga to give her 20k to buy a hair salon
talkin’ that rich sh*t, ain’t bought sh*t, then he ain’t havin’ nothin’
tell that n*gga to buy you a goyard bag if he havin’ somethin’
take a n*gga b*tch, runnin’ laps with her like a marathon
[verse 2]
richey rich a real bad*b*tch sn*tcher
she poppin’ sh*t on ig, that’s the b*tch i’m runnin’ after
all these b*tches want these racks, ain’t a b*tch that i can’t capture
all these n*ggas ridin’ waves, all these p*ssy n*ggas cappers, uh
bad b*tch, you want a rollie or a chain?
i f*cked the b*tch good, i made the b*tch throw up the gang
i’m really havin’ m’s, go tell your n*gga stay in his lane
[chorus]
bae, you finer than a b*tch, you nothin’ like my last b*tch
catch a bad b*tch and spend it on her, that sh*t a habit
we ain’t runnin’ out of paper, stupid b*tch, we mad rich
braggin’ ’cause he got your hair done, we can tell who ain’t had sh*t
i’m too turnt to get her hair done
type of n*gga to give her 20k to buy a hair salon
talkin’ that rich sh*t, ain’t bought sh*t, then he ain’t havin’ nothin’
tell that n*gga to buy you a goyard bag if he havin’ somethin’
take a n*gga b*tch, runnin’ laps with her like a marathon
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