Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rich Niggaz, artist - Juvenile.
Date of issue: 13.06.2006
Song language: English
Rich Niggaz |
Why, why, why |
Why, why, why |
Why, why |
Cash Money, rich niggas |
Look |
Loud pipes, big rims |
Nigga, that’s my life |
When I pull up at the club sorry that’s my night |
I know a lot of haters probably sayin' that that’s not right |
Well, my diamonds so much bigger |
So, that’s my life |
Bling Bling |
Now, I only carry big faces and you hear the ching, ching |
Now, you can ask your wife and she will say the same thin' |
And your children be amazed when they see me on the big screen |
Ha, ha, ha |
I crack myself up |
I know I talk lot but I can back myself up |
Got a little house on the beach that’s where I shack myself up |
You ain’t really got more money than me |
Think about it |
Let’s just say somebody gave me a check and took the ink up out it |
So I just bought a new Rollie and got to take a link up out it |
And me with no ice is like a Prince concert that ain’t crowded |
They see the Beam, and the truck, and the B-12 |
And we was next |
Then that’s when I pull up in the B-E-L |
Le-Le-Lex |
Ha |
I’m on fire |
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot |
We on fire |
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot |
Juvenile used to be R-T-A bound |
Now I be bustin' these bitches head when I come 'round |
Acting like a nigga that ain’t never had shit |
Look into my bed sayin' that’s a mad hit |
I’ll damned if these diamonds and golds ain’t shinin' |
My Rollie ain’t windin' my bank ain’t climbin' |
You lookin' at a multi-millionaire in the flesh |
Might don’t have it now, but I just got me a check |
I can walk it like I talk it, play it how I say it |
Teach it like I preach it; |
now, put that in your head |
Nigga, bet a thousand, shoot a thousand — ain’t nuttin' |
Smoke a pound, pop the Cristal and drink somethin' |
Meet me in the casino, way in the back |
Losin' money like a motherfucker, still shootin' craps |
Tomorrow I’ll be back, I got millionaire status |
We make so much money IRS be lookin' at us |
I’m on fire |
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot |
We on fire |
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot |
I got more ends than Bunny have in a factory |
I’m Lil Turk, I’m livin' large, got the baddest hoes after me |
Picture me, a young nigga ballin' out of control |
Playing with millions, laying in condos |
Nigga I shine, shine through the fuckin' week |
The fliest ride with Cristal in the passenger seat |
Don’t hate me, cause I’m a little baller |
Got more weight than Angola |
Fucking your girl Carla |
Nigga I stunt |
And I’ma a stunt til I can’t no more |
Chest lit up like the oaks |
From the diamonds I sport |
Yo, I can’t be touched |
Don’t think I’m too much, nigga I’m rich what the fuck |
Rolex crushed out with the bezel |
And in order for hoes to get close to me got to be on my schedule |
I got so much money |
I don’t know what to do |
Buy isles and cars |
And break bread with my crew |
I’m on fire |
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot |
We on fire |
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot |
We on fire |
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot |
Uh, uh, uh |
Hear me |
It’s like, monkey see, monkey do |
Rollin' with the Cash Money runners I stay true |
Cause when were runnin' and climbin' on the million-dollar scene |
Holding together, know what I mean, know what I mean |
When I bring out the rubber around the Hummer |
Don’t nobody have a Benz or the Lex Bubble |
When I start they said I had no fame |
Now all the girls just end up calling my name |
Ten G’s to ??? |
Fax the contract to big Cash Money |
Cause you know this whole clique right with me |
They’re right with me |
Sip-pe-di-dy |
Won’t count the diamonds just around my neck |
X amount of dollars on a bankroll check |
If you want to really come and sing with me |
Those that got me wicked, then I do some free |
For free |