a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

on the horn - rich the kid lyrics

[intro: quavo]
you know what i mean? migo gang sh*t
flippa
slaughter gang, 21 sh*t
you know what i mean?

[verse 1: quavo]
hit a n*gga in the head (hit him)
we ain’t shooting at the legs (naw)
back in the day had a trick bike, had a bad b*tch on the pegs (b*tch!)
some of my n*ggas bang blue (crip)
some of my n*ggas bang red (blood)
some of my n*ggas bang black (gd)
all of my n*ggas keep straps (grrah)
spend three hundred on a napp (ayy!)
they sucking, f*ck the whole trap
b*tch, you know my pockets fat (sloppy)
quavo walking warren sapp (sacks)
takeoff buying only act (lean!)
you n*ggas sipping just to act (actors!)
bought a bimmer, wrapped it matte (skrrt)
got a shooter, peep hole out the back (grraw!)
never been a minority (naww) take the pot and chuck norris it (oh!) you n*ggas looking unfortunate (woo) different types of babies like a orphanage (babies!)
i hit my money in the storage
i hate when i had to go to court and sh*t (hate it!)
you thinking that i’m cooking up porridge (cooking!)
the way i’m whipping up my wrist and sh*t (whip it!)
d*mn, this hoe she annoying
after i f*ck her, i’m finna get rid of the b*tch (gone!)
what type of sh*t that he on
go get the 30 young n*gga, go empty the clip (grraw!)
[verse 2: 21 savage]
slaughter gang, i’m the king b*tch
mac 90 with the beam, b*tch
hi*tech, you sipping green b*tch
21, hold the pot with my left arm
catching plays like brett favre
you a gold fish and i’m a f*cking shark
whip the pot n*gga, whip it hard
ak make a n*gga hit the quan
gas bag like i own the farm
she blowing on it like she on a h*rn
100 round drum and that stick
pull up, roll the windows down and i hit
you cuffing that b*tch and she loyal to d*ck
chasing money, i can’t lay with no b*tch
murda gang, we don’t play with the beef
put ’em on a plate and we gonna eat
n*ggas snitching, i put 10 on the g’s
margielas, i put rent on my feet
n*ggas p*ssy, i see through ’em they weak
f*ck 12, we keep sh*t in the streets
i brought her to the spot that b*tch was a freak
f*cked her on the floor, can’t f*ck up my sheets

[verse 3: offset]
offset!
we really invented you n*ggas
the judge tried to sentence a n*gga
f*ck a partner, my .44 my n*gga
stuck in the pickle, grinding from a nickel
trapping in trenches, two bricks in the rental
i’m crazy i’m psycho, it’s ’bout to get physical
run a circle ’round the plug, that’s a pick and roll
feds watching so i walk on my tippy toes
i’m rich as b*tch, i want in on that l!ck
i’m not romantic, my bullet gon’ kiss
get in that pot, get the work in your wrist
i was born with the gift, got the fame and the grip
hop in the jet and i take me a trip
geeked out on codeine, i sip and i sip
jump off the stage, i might jump out the vip
i’m covered in money, covered like a quimp
i’m smoking on cookie, not smoking on piff
don’t talk to the police, not giving out tips
that ain’t that boot, that molly look too clear
i don’t care what you heard, i jump straight in my lier
standing in the kitchen, cooking fish fillet
run up my money, i stash me a wraith
don’t run up on me n*gga, pump your brakes
i feed you the .223, dinner plate!
[verse 4: manman savage]
run up on me n*gga, catch a slug
50 and the 40, i don’t use a glove
you know we got the straps up in the club
i don’t f*ck with you, you a dub
21 gang, we got weight
all of my n*gga, we straight
pull up on a n*gga, we’ll take
headshot a n*gga, leave him in a lake
round table with the migo gang and the slaughter gang, we on break
b*tch too skinny i don’t want her, f*ck the b*tch, the b*tch might break
i got a hundred round drum on that k
i keep that b*tch with me, you know that bae
never let a n*gga know where i stay
have a n*gga staking out where you stay
i get that cash, i ain’t got time to play
hold up that choppa, this mask on my face
shoot out the doulie then pull off in the wraith
curious george, got bananas in k’s
p*ssy n*ggas turn to preachers like ma$e
finna slide to where i keep me a k
juvenile hit a n*gga with tre
on tenwood, post with that k
woo!

[verse 5: rich the kid]
whipping a brick with a frying pan
made a 100k with a broke hand
trapping down with the desert eagle
actavis all in my 2 liter
finessing the plug for a whole thang
rollie all white like the cocaine
i got a freak with a nose ring
cut that b*tch down like i’m 2 chainz
walking around with a 100 thou’
i’m actually rich, you just talk about it
pull up with choppers and air it out
i empty the clip in your mama house
hit a jug for the work, still serving
get rich or die trying like curtis
i roll with a brick and she nervous
pull out the wraith when i’m flexing on purpose
i started trapping in first grade
i put the lean in a lemonade
i pour a four, got a fever
dab school, i’m the teacher
riding scr*p with the nina
big balling, no bleachers
100k for one feature
bad b*tch, she no keeper

- rich the kid lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular