Lyrics:
could get holy son
Watch what you say
Don't turn me to the old me
I don't fuck wit rich niggas
Why
They Gabronis
I don't see why you be sitting by ya
Ty wasn't a shooter, that nigga just sold bricks
And Tony he was reckless he never had no picks
Tony was like the Alpo, Ty was the Lil Rich
Two
Call me "God's Son", with my pants low
I don't die slow, put them rags up like Petey Pablo
This is Nasdaq dough, in my Nascar with this Nas flow
Flip
talking ‘bout bands
I just hope that my son's in the Mumford's
Hope he don't lose his way
The apple don't fall too far
The designer's the future in every
local, my thoughts are global
That's why I seem distant, son, expand ya vision
Even adored by Norwegian woman
Blonde hair and blue eyes, I'm gettin'
She a bad rich bitch she did it own she been rocking Gucci ferigamo camme des garçon
She a bad rich bitch she did it by herself
She even bought
How do you want to be remembered?
As being rich?
Yeah, yeah, uh
Visions of seeing my self as somewhat different
Reality got me feeling
so you put me on Big and 2Pac
'Fore we came a long way, L.A. With B and Jay
Or flyin' to Coachella playing Spades on PJ's
Gimme three days, my
I know you a bitch, lil boy
So don't even trip, lil boy
I'm just tryna get rich, lil boy
I'm just tryna hit a lick, lil boy
That thang by my hip, lil
better known as Lil' Keke the Don
Getting rich and going hard, to get it all for my son
[Chorus: x2]
leaf suit
With my five hundred dollar brown knee-high Ballsy
Wes said, "It's pimpin' how you wear 'em outside ya pants
And by the way my ham sandwichs
accounts and some bankers
Get high, get fly, til you get it, gettin' by
Don't switch get krunk get drunk get rich
From the bottom to the top now it's
the niggas I miss
let the lye twist
last time I seen you it was Nine-Six
you had Five bricks and two chicks to ride wit'
left the Eight-Fifty-I at my crib
of sambos
Call me "God's Son", with my pants low
I don't die slow, put them rags up like Petey Pablo
This is Nasdaq dough, in my Nascar with this Nas flow
Every time I hit I put it up my son gone know I'm rich
I go pay the plug all by myself it ain't no throwing in
I don't want no bitch that want no
a nigga prayed up stayed up
Hope I don’t miss it
My chance can’t miss me
I’m tryna get rich ayeee
It’s allways on my mind
2x
Stay up on grind
And it
Black shades, Johnny Cage, diamonds go parade
Motorola in the kitchen, whippin' Sonya
My plug look like Pacquiao, his daughter is Kitana
Young rich
the Berenstain Bears
Not two years ago I was homeless, I mean crashin' on the couch of my homies
Now I'm crashin' on the couch with Conan, signed a mortgage
I got my mind right, money right, yeah (you heard that, homeboy)
Like Father Like Son, nigga
And we on the money train, believe that (money,
Call me son and suck my dick
Feeling all the shame with the same interactions
Feeling all the guilt that was built from reactions
Never had traction,
(5) Only strong will survive
(4) Cause we live by the sword
(3) Plus sixty degrees
(2) For the black and the blue
(1) For the sun.. step into
Is his name double-barreled like my gun
Or does he have a pseudonym for fun
I'm stunned by your logic of all for none
Maybe he's a rich man's number
Fuck a bitch nigha I rather be rich (Rich)
Diamonds on me hittin got a bag and changed my fit (Got a bag)
I'm worried bout myself like I get paid
graduation
Take him to the movies, by the cemetary
If my corpse could talk then I would tell him, I was sorry
Lifestyles of The Rich & Famous
Some die with
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