Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Super Rich Kids, artist - Frank Ocean. Date of issue: 31.12.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Super Rich Kids |
| Too many bottles of this wine we can’t pronounce |
| Too many bowls of that green, no lucky charms |
| The maids come around too much |
| Parents ain’t around enough |
| Too many joy rides in daddy’s jaguar |
| Too many white lies and white lines |
| Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends |
| Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends |
| Start my day up on the roof |
| There’s nothing like this type of view |
| Point the clicker at the tube |
| I prefer expensive news |
| New car, new girl |
| New ice, new glass |
| New watch, good times babe |
| It’s good times, yeah |
| She wash my back three times a day |
| This shower head feels so amazing |
| We’ll both be high, the help don’t stare |
| They just walk by, they must don’t care |
| A million one, a million two |
| A hundred more will never do |
| Too many bottles of this wine we can’t pronounce |
| Too many bowls of that green, no lucky charms |
| The maids come around too much |
| Parents ain’t around enough |
| Too many joy rides in daddy’s jaguar |
| Too many white lies and white lines |
| Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends |
| Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends |
| Real love, I’m searching for a real love |
| Real love, I’m searching for a real love |
| Oh, real love |
| Close your eyes for what you can’t imagine, we are the xany gnashing |
| Caddy smashing, bratty ass, he mad, he snatched his daddy’s Jag |
| And used the shit for batting practice, adamant and he thrashing |
| Purchasing crappy grams with half the hand of cash you handed |
| Panicking, patch me up, Pappy done latch keyed us |
| Toying with Raggy Anns and mammy done had enough |
| Brash as fuck, breaching all these aqueducts; |
| don’t believe us |
| Treat us like we can’t erupt, yup |
| We end our day up on the roof |
| I say I’ll jump, I never do |
| But when I’m drunk I act a fool |
| Talking 'bout, do they sew wings on tailored suits |
| I’m on that ledge, she grabs my arm |
| She slaps my head |
| It’s good times, yeah |
| Sleeve rips off, I slip, I fall |
| The market’s down like 60 stories |
| And some don’t end the way they should |
| My silver spoon has fed me good |
| A million one, a million cash |
| Close my eyes and feel the crash |
| Too many bottles of this wine we can’t pronounce |
| Too many bowls of that green, no lucky charms |
| The maids come around too much |
| Parents ain’t around enough |
| Too many joy rides in daddy’s jaguar |
| Too many white lies and white lines |
| Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends |
| Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends |
| Real love (ain't that something rare) |
| I’m searching for a real love (talking 'bout real love) |
| Real love yeah |
| Real love |
| I’m searching for a real love |
| Talking 'bout a real love |