Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song We Rich, artist - Los. Date of issue: 30.06.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
We Rich |
| Ayy |
| (Ooh, Sav killed it) |
| Nigga |
| Ayy |
| Pussy-ass niggas, ain’t got no love for 'em (Ayy) |
| Ayy, I couldn’t quit if I tried |
| I’m still puttin' plays down, cuz sittin' outside |
| Nigga thinkin' it’s rap, I’m like fuck it, that’s cool |
| I’m like where was niggas at when we had slabs in the booth? |
| Now it’s five thou for a verse, I’m like pay me in cash |
| Late nights cookin' up, cut a baby in half |
| I’ll drop my nuts on a ho, kick the bitch to the curb |
| I can pay for that pussy 'cause I get paid for my words |
| Said the price triple up, lil' two-hour drive |
| I sell 'em whole pills, but they crushin' 'em down |
| I done made it without trappin', got my mama so proud |
| We started from the bottom, now we fuck with VLIVE |
| That nigga ain’t got no cake in the club |
| I ain’t playin' with the opps, got a K in the club |
| You a pussy-ass nigga, I ain’t fakin' no love |
| I just slit your nigga wrists, see the hate in his blood |
| We run through like a pint in a day |
| She told you I ain’t fuck her, then she lied to your face |
| I made a hundred thousand with Ray |
| You the type of nigga happy, hundred dollars a day |
| I could drink a hundred pops in a day |
| Spray the whip with thirty shots, he got shot in the face |
| Used to ride around with Vezz with some rocks and an eighth |
| Now we ridin' 'round in Wraiths with a Glock and a K |
| Los took me to the Daisy, it got crazy |
| Seen 'em sell a white boy a tenth of fentanyl for eighty |
| I’m on Fenton road cuttin' a brick up in the basement |
| Got the pistol on me, leave a nigga cold on the pavement |
| You wanna book me for a show? |
| You gotta pay me |
| But that don’t mean I gotta go, you gotta make me |
| It ain’t 'bout what you bringin' in, you gotta save it |
| Veeze left his pop in here, I’m 'bout to taste it |
| Take a nigga Cuban off his neck, walk away like, «Thank you» |
| Ten racks, I blew that at the set wearin' Palm Angels |
| I got some boy jumpin' off the chain, I can’t tame it, need a dog trainer |
| Shit dark as hell like an African, the soft Caucasian |
| Three 'bows of real pink Runtz, I broke it down in all eighthies |
| We them niggas who got nigga rich from servin' all races |
| We been ballin' just like Michael Vick, dodgin' dog cases |
| Wock', red, green, I got all flavors |
| Cut a nigga with this brand new .223, it give bald tapers |
| I got some strong dog, tryna see if fentanyl take it |