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the author - rich homie quan lyrics

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[intro]
the average person like nard & b gon think this sh-t i’m talkin’ bout made up or make believe or some sh-t, but nah man, this my everyday life dawg
trenchwerk

[chorus]
i got some stories i’m tellin’ but they not made up
don’t try to dap me, just spare me, don’t want that fake love
18 ain’t know ‘bout no rollie, wanted a jacob
so when i tell you this story know they not made up
keep on my chain when i f-ck her, bae yeah we made love
it took eight months and a couple weeks just to save up
i told my mama go get it because she know i got it
might buy the house i grew up in just to say i bought it

[verse 1]
we just extra flexin’ (yeah), hundred racks on a necklace (ohh)
first time i got booked in houston, sold out show in texas (sold out showing)
i couldn’t make no money off this at first this sh-t was stressful (at first it was)
i was in these n-ggas face with my cd just like a freckle (aye, aye)
i was prolly leavin’ the studio when they was on they way to breakfast
when they was prolly goin’ to sleep, i was still up i was goin’ extra
right before the new walmart, i was still on gresham
i told myself never fall off, quan you gotta do better
i do this sh-t in real life n-gga, no make believe (no, no)
i was broke as h-ll growin’ up, now fifty what i make week (yeah, yeah)
rich in spirit that the way to be (rich homie baby)
these n-ggas cotton and i’m harder than ’em (that right too)
it’s copywritten ’cause i wrote it, i’m the author n-gga

[chorus]
i got some stories i’m tellin’ but they not made up
don’t try to dap me, just spare me, don’t want that fake love
18 ain’t know ’bout no rollie, wanted a jacob
so when i tell you these stories know they not made up
keep on my chain when i f-ck her, bae ya we made love
it took eight months and a couple weeks just to save up
i told my mama, go get it because she know i got it
might buy the house i grew up in just to say i bought it

[verse 2]
at the strip club, we at day shift, fifty thousand on my bracelet
eight months i was savin’, house so big no neighbors yeah
tryna out ball my paper yeah, real life story not made up (nah)
in high school f-ckin’ hoes by stephenson out by decatur (f-ck them hoes)
smokin’ by the cafeteria back near the gyms
smokin’ mid throwin’ out the seeds and spittin’ out the stems (spittin’ out the stems)
n-ggas tried to count me down so i had to bend the rim (i bent my act)
i remember mama house, recording, no engineer (hey, hey)
remember when grandmama died, it hurt couldn’t shed a tear
i swear i saw my mama cry, didn’t know there’ll be better years (i love you mama)
i try to put away my pride, no middle, face all my fears (nah real talk man)
we need a plate, don’t try to starve us
can’t make this up when you the author (rich homie baby)

[chorus]
i got some stories i’m tellin’ but they not made up
don’t try to dap me, just spare me, don’t want that fake love
18 ain’t know ’bout no rollie, wanted a jacob
so when i tell you these stories know they not made up
keep on my chain when i f-ck her, bae ya we made love
it took eight months and a couple weeks just to save up
i told my mama go get it because she know i got it
might buy the house i grew up in just to say i bought it

trenchwerk

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