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doesn't go from digs to digs no more
Hit him on the head with a 2 by 4
Nowadays he has a Georgian glazed porch

Used table leg to club son in law
New
digs to digs no more
Hit him on the head with a 2 by 4
Nowadays he has a Georgian glazed porch

Used table leg to club son in law
New fiend in your
different baby daddies
Raised by the OG's I never had a fucking daddy
No I never needed one, I'm a father to my son
He don't even know my son
See this life
Nine miles of two-strand topped with barbed wire
Laid by the father for the son.
Good shelter down there on the valley floor,
Down by where
Welcome to the black place
I took a seat on the rug by the fireplace
Feeling like I'm rich, I'm rich I'm rich I'm rich
I'm rich, I'm rich I'm rich I'm
push a button

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen
I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen
I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen (All my
bricks to the sky, this is it, ha'
Where my dogs getting high getting rich, ha'
A nigga rich, ha'

Shame on a nigga who tried to run game on a nigga
Pull
dollars a sock

Two ankles, you do the math
Pull them on
Socks on the first, followed by the loafers
Then I know from that day, that week, that month,
the two's

I seen niggas gettin' rich
Then days went by, then days went by, then days went by
I was tired of havin' shit
Then days went by, then days
, then days went by, then days went by,
Here I am

I Knew Shawn since we was little niggas son since we were seven
Armed robbery, first degree, my man did
Don't let me pass you by

Tomorrow there will be no rain
Tomorrow there'll be no more pain
Tomorrow if you feel the same
Call me [x2]

Here's
plastic trapaulin
Mi wan fi rich, mi wan fi rich, rich, rich
Mi wan fi, mi wan fi rich, mi wan fi rich, rich,
Rich, again
Mi want a million dollar by
for you has turned me in my grave. 
I said, Mama 
I come to the valley of the rich 
Myself to sell. 
She said, Son 
This is the road to hell.
For I have married you to a rich man's son
And he shall be a match for thee when I am dead and gone.
He is young, but he is daily growing.

Oh!
An old woman was presented by her son is Louis Vuitton

Shoulder bag, Boston bag, suitcase, osaifu and kinchuk bukuro

An old man who doesn't know what
it all, yeah I'm young, rich, and handsome
Uh, this shit is not random
Everybody ain't got it, understand son, yeah
This shit is not random
Woah
I took care of that, though, but don't worry bout it
I got your back though

Yo why's my niggas always yellin' that broke shit
Let's get money Son
next of kin
And their legacy passed down to me the sons of mountain men

Raised to be a miner by a miners callused hands
Passed my youth between
kill sons
Can't get into the pen for murder one
I rather be rich, lay back and spark that shit
Killed now son of being hit by a bullet

Nigga shut
next of kin
And their legacy passed down to me the sons of mountain men

Raised to be a miner by a miners callused hands
Passed my youth between
Like dead meat on a butcher's tray
My youngest son same home today

My youngest son was a fine young man
With a wife, a daughter and two sons
wanna live like the rich folks up in here

[Chorus: x2]

When a nigga tell you he likes sellin' dope hes a damn lie, 
Cause if he did then he'd sell
'bout John's singing us Drake
These girls are my sons, John and Kate plus eight
When I walk in, sit up straight, I don't give a fuck if I was late
Dealing
shucks, oh, well
Now it's all fucked up
It's shot to hell

Yeah, yeah, my shit's fucked up
It has to happen to the best of us
The rich folks suffer
so right
But the truth is only known by guttersnipes

There's twenty-two singers! But one microphone
Back in the garage
There's five guitar