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trap dab 2 (intro) - rich the kid lyrics

[verse 1: quavo]
i don’t really fuck with niggas, and i don’t really fuck with b-tches
fuck the fame, i want the riches
i turned myself to a young diddy
young rich niggas in the building
yung rich nation, is you with it?
yung rich nation, is you with us?
chopper gon’ turn you to lettuce
just wait on it nigga, you better be patient
my diamonds ancient
walk on the north and they banging
trap out the bando, we slanging
you niggas should go to the medical
you put your hoes up on a pedestal
they cuffing ’em, arresting ’em
i smash ’em, i get the best of ’em
dreams i woke up in raris
and now i’m swerving in the lanes in ’em
with fifty chains and bad b-tch
and she say that she wantin’ my purple pickle
oh, my diamonds like skittles
green diamonds like the riddler
fifty bricks in the fisker
keep a shooter, derek fisher

[verse 2: jose guapo]
i keep a shooter with a semi
pull up trapping out the bentley
he got the birds, and he got the pigeons
out in dallas moving dirk nowitzki
we set the hood on fire, moving that base
we want them cookies, we fly to the bay
you come around us and you watch what you say
we pop us a seal and we pour out the pint
i don’t give a fuck, i got tats on my face
money to blow and got money to waste
money to count and got money to make
young rich nigga, put a stack on my plate
go back and forth and we never debate
now she wanna fuck and i told her too late
most of these niggas be fake or two faced
you try one of my niggas, get shot in your face

[verse 3: rich the kid]
i just touched down from la
the cookies i smoke from the bay
they saying i’m very important
don’t see me if you were in them forces
rich nigga, i’ma buy the b-tch some red bottoms
if the rollie tick tock then you got a problem
f&n, point blank range, headshot ’em
you ain’t seen ’em on the block then the feds got ’em
you touching my c-ke then that’s dangerous
she got the dope in her -n-s
i got the paper, way too many pages
you niggas just wanna be famous
your b-tch, she a ride like six flags
stand on the block, i’m still trapping the gas
walking around with a whole lot of cash
still asking them why is they mad

[verse 4: hoodrich pablo juan]
shoot at these acting niggas, tyler perry
go to dallas to houston like i’m jason terry
my lil nigga gone drive them bricks to the mayor
dirty harry, nigga shoot like the sheriff
twenty choppers with banana clips
i declare nigga guerrilla warfare
i put them bales in the air
i’m in la like fresh prince of bel-air
ed pryor they rare
this ain’t beverly, this moncler
went louboutin shopping, spent brick fare
key to the city, got 10 pair
plug just sent me ten thousand xans
came in a teddy bear
hit me a lick and went to africa to go get diamonds like sincere

[verse 5: skippa da flippa]
dab flippa daddy, trap out the caddy
if you need the skirts then just send the addy
i got three accountants, they do the adding
thin mint my cookie, don’t do the mountain
migo mansion came with a golf course
porsche truck came with good suspension
throw the judge a bankroll to trim down the sentence
and if he was shooter you’d know he’s no witness
so much gold, think that i was from egypt
me and benji best friends, you know that i need him
free all my niggas, don’t play with your freedom
fifteen hundred cash for the first one that beats us
stop drop and pop, you think i’m kyrie irving
me and takeoff popping seals like they virgin
slam dunk the pussy like i’m kendrick perkins
she bad and suspicious, but which one she working

[verse 6: lil duke]
i’m from atlanta
we’re toting them hammers, amanda
pour up a 4 right inside of a fanta
i got them keys to the city, no janitor
never been, but i got b-tches in canada
running around the city like a d-mn animal
go out in public, they pull out the camera
pull up and hop out, they staring
young nigga fresh out that brand new mclaren
we sip that lean, not no beer
pop a percocet and hop on the leer
i am lil duke, and lil b-tch it’s my year
hop in the two seater, i’m switching gears
should be awarded for dab of the year
i cannot see it, you are nowhere near
talking about beefing, i’m riding your shit
i’ma young boss and ain’t going out like mitch

- rich the kid lyrics

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