| Yeah
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| Young Khalifa and Bern
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| Real niggas in this bitch
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| Everybody drunk, the fuck they want
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| Uh
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| It’s not a thing we can’t afford
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| Walk up in the club
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| Bitches want free bud
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| It’s not a thing we can’t afford
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| Don’t even say my name
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| We just rep my gang
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| It’s not a thing we can’t afford
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| We roll that good weed up
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| Tell em meet with us
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| It’s not a thing we can’t afford
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| So get in my car
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| Tell your friends you tryna roll
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| Splash
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| Pretty bitches give me cash
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| Pull up, hop out, 40 in my pants
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| Bag full of gas got the whole crew lit
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| I’m on the twenty third floor with my best friend’s bitch
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| Just smoking, thinking about the world, dice rolling
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| Police behind me, blue lights glowing
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| Keep going, I ain’t gonna stop, Hell nah
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| Fuck a cell, I don’t wanna rot
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| I keep pretty bitches choosing
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| They love me, I’m really neat
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| If she wanna stick around, she gonna need to bring a few
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| Dom Pérignon, we gonna burn a little weed
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| She just sucked off Ren, now she want Ricky P
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| We get money, and shake fake friends that get funny
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| Pull the old schools out when it’s sunny
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| Big papa, they love to rub my tummy
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| Got the renegade hoes running from me
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| Wanna kick it with me
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| Twist all my trees
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| Watch Apple TV, take trips over seas
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| She told me she feening for a reason
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| This dark tint, all this weed sick, you can’t see in
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| Get hoes home and get em out they clothes
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| Smoke marijuana by the O, our eyes low
|
| My pockets covered in zero’s
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| Bitches run up to me like a hero
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| My niggas rob like De Niro
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| He know, she know we high, we smoke
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| The whole bowl load, call the weed man
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| To bring some more
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| And tell them bitches I don’t need they digits
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| I got a bunch of women from other continents coming in
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| Smoke more weed, pass on more things
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| Reflect on all the good shit this cash and this joy brings
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| And for them hoes, I got room in the back
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| Fit four if your small, fit two if your fat
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| I’m a shop a holic, I need help
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| I’m an addict
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| With the same working twice, I forgot I had it
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| To grit this figure, need at least six figures
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| It cost to watch me, so watch your nigga
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| I used to move base like Jeter
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| I’m a fly bitch out the barrel
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| But I’m leaving out teeter
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| Talking private sex on a private jet
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| I’m a more scheme no hoe, with a valentino flow
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| These… cost me thirty three hundred
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| I pop a Dom P while my niggas get blunted
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| Tell Berner break up the P while Wiz roll up the weed
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| Wanna be my main squeeze, nigga please
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| To fill these shoes, you gonna need big feet
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| We never looking at the tags we just throw it in the bag
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| Fifty bottles of Cris, thirty bottles of Moët
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| Twenty… and keep the tab open |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Still Rich , by - Berner. Song from the album Hempire, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп