Lyrics:
when I'm filthy rich and making millies
And you ask me for the time I'll rely on Richard Mille
Every time I see you
I wanna blow that phone up
But I
you’re yapping off
Forget your sob story, my shark tales are jaws gory
The odds chose me, I’m still here by God’s glory
[Chorus]
Betrayal cuts deep
up by the waistband?
Plus, I promised, one day I would take her to Graceland
There's things she needs to see
For instance, I plan on building a family
My name was Richard Nixon, only now I'm a girl
You wouldn't know it but I used to be the king of the world
Compared to last time I look like I've
time them wolves come around
I ain’t hear a sheep
And every so-called progressive
Treat Democratic presidencies
Like eight years of sleep
I’m just saying
at my watch and it's a Richard and it's green, yeah
I'm still smokin' on that good, know I'm blowin' out the steam, yeah
You wouldn't even believe
Millie (A Richard Millie)
That I hope everybody earn (Body earn)
But by my family I survive (I survive)
Been growing' up since I was five (I was five)
Been
a world where black lives Still
Don't matter, I'm way past thirty-nine
But I digress and rewind as I position my birth against and alongside several
back and do it how they use to
Shine on your own merit straight from the muscle
Not measured by your carats or how many rocks you hustle
You probably
the hair length of Cher
Each nut is the chair width of an Acorn stairlift, beware of me
Lyrically I'm terrible, better get your lyrics prepared
Richard
it, homicide on anybody siding with it
I am Richard Pryor fire, lighter to a diaper, hot shit
I get excited by the shit that you liking
'Cause you
my whip looks like it should be owned by Jeremy Clarkson or Richard Hammond
Feds pull me like I'm a drug baron
Chatting bare shit, can't understand
you really need 'em?
When I was locked up in the county, I ain't even see 'em
I'm by my lonely, lonely
What happen to the bitches and the party?
shit perfect timing
When I buy a Richard that shit gon remind me
I fuck with the stardom its givin me hope
Vvs diamonds they drip by the boat
And I'm
Tequila Stat
Words by Richard W Owen
Music by Richard W Owen
The carriage is swaying
The bodies crush 'round me
AI girl reminds me
Please mind
hips
Aye; Yea’ Yea
Aye, Move them hips
Get jiggy wit it
You ain’t feelin’ these good vibes?
Then I counterfeit
Like I’m Richard’s
Son’s, son Smith
With
a daughter now
I believed ima star now I'm balling like harden now just told tap we gone cop Richard Mille told my T stay down she gone get her a Bentley
range far
You are not my main targ’
Bag on me it large
Bag on the Richard
I fuck you outside, park
I feel like I’m Tony stark
I put you on a black card
I
(Wheezy outta here)
My bitch a, a Richard Millie rocker (yeah)
1017 for life, you know what I'm saying, no cap
No extras on it
Real nigga shit
signed by Hov and Dame?
And ran to Jacob and made the new Jesus chains?
In Jesus' name, let the choir say
"I'm on fire, ay," that's what Richard Pryor say
judge a book by its cover
I seen the doubt they put me on the cutter
Taking my shot I'm trying to beat the buzzer
He play with them keys like he stevie
to switch the hue 'cause them LA boys smuggy
But more likely to get hurt by somebody who love me
My lady, she don't trust me (nah), know I'm a sick puppy
are
Against saying what we want to say the right way
ya know what I'm saying, so what we're gonna do
Is kick back, swing a little funky beat by my
I nodded at a sermon
Billy Graham barely got through
But anyone can see my new celebrity is you
I'm not a bit ashamed of it
A rapier wit
Kept Serge
.jpeg/275px-Harpo_Marx_playing_the_harp_(cropped).jpeg "Harpo Marx")
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