Lyrics:
a motherfucking drive-thru
That was back then, man
Now my niggas rich enough to do whatever I do
southern
It ain't no thinkin' I was playin' I am not frontin
The mentality of a goon, I am not stuntin
Filet mignon with my food stamps
Car cosigned by my
Real nigga don't gotta say "no homo"
'Cause niggas not gonna say nothing homo
I'ma tell you right now how this won't go
With you breathin' or leavin'
Out
talk for me
Half a mill' worth of ice what it bought for me
I'm on that bubble kush man that's a rich high
I order Crist' by the case, I'm a rich guy
hands
Just did a stick-up, just got picked up
One dead punk, killed by the man
New York New York big city of dreams
And everything in New York
records saying that we're a threat to decent society.
Fuck them. I hope we are.
What kind of depraved idiot thinks they can silence others by denying them
know why these man are
Messing with the team
When not even Rooney would risk it
You'll still see me
I go forward right by 3 3 3
I'm Jamie, don't watch J
(rich)
Fucked around and now I’m way too lit uhh
I be chilling
I ain’t worried about your shit, yea (no shit no shit)
I be chilling
I ain’t worried about
Miner, seamstress, ditchdigger, all of them.
I am the "etceteras" and the "and so forths" that do the work.
Now hold on here, what are you trying to give
Everyone's different
So what I want, you might not want
Visa versa, yeah who Don't
G-H
Who don't wanna be rich? (Who?)
Who don't wanna be big
hands
Just did a stick-up, just got picked up
One dead punk, killed by the man
New York New York big city of dreams
And everything in New York
'm a flirt)
Sometimes when I'm with my chick on the low (I'm a flirt)
And when she's wit her man lookin' at me, damn right (I'm a flirt)
So homie don't bring
on the field up front
I am no kinda right back
(Why, why, why, why?)
I am no kinda sideman
I get the smoke and light man
I do road 'cause I can
Number nine
Rich by popular demand
The wait is over homie
Yes it is
A town connect
Know the city gon' feel this
Damn right
Say Toob I know you see me
Say Chris
a crook
Take money off the books
Just as long as I'm liked
By a rich man's wife?
OK, hold up i can't rap about doing crime
But if I actually do crime,
This song right here,
Is dedicated to the president of the United States of America
Y'all might know him as George Bush
But where I'm from,
now she all for us
She play her roll, she don't do no fussin'
Take it whole and I know she busy it
Pussy swollen, it's lookin' luscious
Young rich nigga
(Get up, get out there and make my motherfucking money, right now)
Forgot what I am, bitch? What am I?
I'm a pimp in every inch of the word
Every inch
niggas
Who the fuck said we friends mayday!
Came in this mother fucker by myself
When I leave I'mma take some more niggas
Am allergic to them broke niggas
What I said in my rhymes
Now I'm getting rich
Off sellin' my rhymes
Man I told em' I would blow
Now it's set it off time
Who could believe
Right, man! I am totally wasted now, man. I should maybe get an umbrella
Or something and go in the shade."
Buffoon: "I know a guy who can suck his own
sucker, I know that bitch man
She wanna be a Pretty Woman lovin a rich man
Now here you come, drop top ridin
You ain't no pimp fake nigga stop lyin
Pussy
Your number, won't store it
Call me, I ignore it (hello)
I might get a 'Rari, 200 I floor it (Rari)
I was broke yesterday (yeah)
I was rich by
a black man to speak about black People like you do, you' to retire, Ars, is serious ignorance but racism
I am a black woman and an Eminem - Stan
Face me,
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