lirik lagu rich the kid - mo paper
(feat. yg)
[intro: rich the kid]
yeah, you know what i’m sayin’?
can’t never switch, huh
ooh, ayy, any, huh
[chorus: rich the kid]
you ain’t a boss you can’t touch her
i might just paint the bentley mustard
i got rich, that’s on my mother
say she love you, still can’t trust her
cut the pork, drop the top, then i speed race it
but my frames, they dior, i can’t see baby
why your boyfriend a lame? i got mo’ paper
bring the money out now, i got mo’ haters
[verse 1: rich the kid]
where my stash box? bring the racks out
watch your bad bop (bad)
i blew that cash out (cash, what)
yah, ayy, ran my money up
now i got mo’ haters (i got mo’ papers)
b-tches wanna f-ck ’cause i got mo’ papers
now i speed race, i want more face
my b-tch bake the cake, i might slide the wraith
hermès links, check the slink
chanel when she blink, she want that ‘rari pink (skrrt, skrrt)
[chorus: rich the kid]
you ain’t a boss you can’t touch her
i might just paint the bentley mustard
i got rich, that’s on my mother
say she love you, still can’t trust her
cut the pork, drop the top, then i speed race it
but my frames, they dior, i can’t see baby
why your boyfriend a lame? i got mo’ paper
bring the money out now, i got mo’ haters
[verse 2: yg]
i need the bag fast, fast, fast, fast (fast)
pulled up, lambo, n-gg-s mad, mad, mad, mad (n-gg-s mad)
saint laurent, hard bottoms, splash, splash, splash (splash)
you might slip on a drip, you might need the cash
i painted my 6-4 red, a lot of my homies dead
some of my homies blue, a lot of my homies red
on bloods, i need that head, i’m tryin’ to feel it in my legs
i’m trying to spend a little bread, f-ck it up at sakks, yeah
all my b-tches drive benz, i’ll put you in a benz
all my hoes conniving, they finesse them m’s
rich n-gg- slide in, oh yeah, yeah she did
before you f-ck me, give that p-ssy a cleanse, yeah
[chorus: rich the kid]
you ain’t a boss you can’t touch her
i might just paint the bentley mustard
i got rich, that’s on my mother
say she love you, still can’t trust her
cut the pork, drop the top, then i speed race it
but my frames, they dior, i can’t see baby
why your boyfriend a lame? i got mo’ paper
bring the money out now, i got mo’ haters
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