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rich facts - real boston richey lyrics

[intro]
yeah, ayy
uh
uh
uh
uh
(known to let that mac fly just like my n*gga doe, baow)
uh, uh

[chorus]
on the real, n*gga, i speak rich facts
my wrist lit, my b*tch thick, n*gga, that’s some big facts
you workin’ nine to five, then b*tch, i can’t even hit that
your n*gga don’t trap or rap, then he can’t get his b*tch back
been workin’ out my whole life, can’t get no six*pack
i go everywhere with my chain, ain’t rare, but i get my sh*t sn*tched
i got two b*tches, they stuck together, locked up like some kit kats
you ain’t gotta ask me, am i with it? b*tch, you know i’m with that
and that b*tch too toxic, woke up, then i had to quit that

[verse 1]
but now i want my b*tch back
i’m like, “d*mn, i really miss her, d*mn, i really miss that”
i’m like, “d*mn, i really played, how the f*ck lil’ b gon’ fix that?”
every time i went through pain, ran up me a big sack
every time i went through pain, doubled back, got way litter
you with a country n*gga in the city, that’s why i got way sl!cker
on my side of town, n*gga, we ain’t buckin’ fades, n*gga
on my side of town, we put b*tches in they place, n*gga
if i ain’t got no way, i’m gon’ make a way, n*gga
i know you’ll play my face, i ain’t had nowhere to stay, n*gga
i tried to right my wrongs, but i see that i played with you
i’m n*ggas’ pappy, all these n*ggas that i done made, n*gga
i make her take down three shots, dwyane wade, n*gga
won’t sweep the floor no more ’cause, b*tch, you know i’m a made n*gga
the same follows on the ‘gram, you know i’m way bigger
i hang with dirt divers, you know i’m with them gravediggers
i hope she know she gon’ get it too, tryna be a gang member
all that ice you got and still can’t eat, y’all lame n*ggas
the n*ggas i started with, i’m still comin’ with the same n*ggas
illegal turn, they tried to pull me ’cause i’m a lane switcher
i throw the ball, i call the plays, n*gga, i’m the main pitcher
i put that n*gga and his lil’ dog up in the same swisher
i told that n*gga i love him and i’ma share that pain with him
he crossed me out, then i cropped him out that same picture
[chorus]
on the real, n*gga, i speak rich facts
my wrist lit, my b*tch thick, n*gga, that’s some big facts
you workin’ nine to five, then b*tch, i can’t even hit that
your n*gga don’t trap or rap, then he can’t get his b*tch back
been workin’ out my whole life, can’t get no six*pack
i go everywhere with my chain, ain’t rare, but i get my sh*t sn*tched
i got two b*tches, they stuck together, locked up like some kit kats
you ain’t gotta ask me, am i with it? b*tch, you know i’m with that
and that b*tch too toxic, woke up, then i had to quit that

[verse 2]
i got too many b*tches, i don’t know when i’ma quit ’em
told her, “i’ma reserve myself,” but you know i’m tryna stick her
wanna see a rich*ass n*gga? look up in the mirror
you wanna see a b*tch*ass n*gga? go look up in the mirror
milk the game, n*gga, but i ain’t milkin’ out no cereal
i just speak my mind, n*gga, ain’t worried ’bout bein’ lyrical
every n*gga i seen go to jail, they went and bought a vehicle
i don’t take her serious, every thing they do, the b*tch too typical
move right ’cause these bullets that i shoot, these b*tches invisible
trap at night, but the place i’m trappin’ at, this sh*t ain’t little
how the f*ck i sign for all them m’s? this sh*t right here a miracle
hmm, nah, for real, pop it

- real boston richey lyrics

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