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birdman presents - fly rich - rich gang lyrics

dj stevie j
real n-ggas
rich n-ggas
fly sh-t

i be on some fly n-gga sh-t when i step out
f-ck what y’all talkin’ about
i be on some rich n-gga sh-t when i step out
f-ck what y’all talkin’ about
f-ck what y’all talkin’ about
f-ck what y’all talkin’ about
f-ck what y’all talkin’ about
i be on some fly, rich n-gga sh-t, steppin’ out
i be on that fly, rich n-gga sh-t, steppin’ out
f-ck what y’all talkin’ about

quarter-mill for the car, quarter-mill on the arm
black double-r, back the f-ck off
drophead, cut your head off, hard top, no soft
wet p-ssy turn me on, money keep me hard
king sh-t, versace towels, i ain’t dryin’ off
marble floors, you dusty n-ggas couldn’t walk on
jesus walked on water, so i’mma walk on charters
private jets, baguettes, only f-ck with ballers
all this, half a mill, first week of august
i ain’t even doin’ shows, i’m just workin’ on the album
forty for the feature, i just payed my mama’s visa
you in the club breathin’, that ten x, you n-ggas beavis
she give me b-tt, head – get brain like a g*nius
i got that dope sh-t, the 80s chrome alpinas
white beamer – my son gon’ inherit this flow
you n-ggas gumball drops on the bottom of my sole

young n-gga, we rich gang
came up from that rich game
picture me rollin’ down biscayne
black double-r with your b-tch, mane
with that top off and that drop head
pull up on ‘em, they drop dead
n-ggas talkin’ that bird sh-t
when them birds came, they was not dead
and i was out there with that work
from the 15th to the 1st
my clique mean and they merk
we’ll let them clips squeeze like dirt
when it come to them dollars, n-gga, why bother?
these n-ggas don’t want no problems
‘cause i’ll k!ll all y’all dead, put a price on your head
get your brain, i doubt it
i be on that fly sh-t – m-o-b that mob sh-t
boy, i’m talkin’ g5 sh-t
fifty racks for that ride, sh-t
that ain’t yours, that’s my b-tch
you clocked out and i signed in
we young n-ggas, we grindin’
we shinin’ like diamonds

make them pop ten bottles like, “give me ten more”
i’m in the club p-ssin’ weed to the b-tches, like “hit this sh-t”
your stupid -ss outside talkin’ ‘bout “get me in!”
should’ve known i was a fool, when i moved
when i pulled up in that bentley
told y’all i was gangster, still somethin’ like a pimp
don’t say i didn’t – million-dollar flow
got a lot of dough, brand new clothes
vip for n-ggas like me
wish a motherf-cker would touch that rope
rappers, hustlers, dealers, k!llers
thugs, goons, beasts, guerillas
money, cars, jewels, chinchillas
jets, cribs, condos, villas
say that, then
godd-mn right, b-tch i’ve been fly since way back when
that’s right, i am ymcm, grave street, play that, there
burnin’ up the track like a motherf-ckin’ matchstick
you know that’s him
tryna shine when you come around stars like us
they do look dim
ain’t got your game tight, ain’t got your swag up
shame on them
your legs too little and your t-shirt big
n-gga, go to the gym
for the love of my clique, we up in this b-tch
so sorry that your girl’s suckin’ my d-ck
throwin’ money in the air like i’m sick of this sh-t

we be on our fly sh-t
you see us right
fly sh-t
swag or die and we high
haha rich gang
dj stevie j
stunna, salute

- rich gang lyrics

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