| Rare talk, yeah, talk, I’m gettin' to the bag, nigga
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| Niggas call me Goyard Roddy 'cause a nigga hoppin' out my bag, nigga
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| Never fell in love with a bitch 'cause Ricch ain’t goin' sad, nigga
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| I was just choppin' it up with Meek, now I hop out the Wag', nigga
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| Whippin' up dope, got the re-work, spilled it on my t-shirt
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| That Justin Bieber, she love my trap demeanor
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| How you niggas say you robbin', you ain’t never make the news (Never made the
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| news)
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| Countin' up 10 racks, then I got some brand new shoes
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| I got a brown skin bad as Meagan Good
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| Pullin' up Panamera when I’m in my hood
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| Niggas think I made a million off the jugg
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| Take care of my dawgs on death row like I’m Suge (Yeah, yeah)
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| I got different hoes, in different area codes (Woo, woo)
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| I feel like Luda, hop out with the shooters (Woo, woo)
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| If I’m gon' cuff that bitch, gotta make sure that her head right (Woo, woo)
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| Got a red beam, caught him sleepin' at the red light
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| These niggas been cappin', I can’t do that shit no mo' (Woo, woo)
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| If a nigga wasn’t real, he can’t be around Ricch no more (No)
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| Hit it one time, I can’t even fuck no more (Woo, woo)
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| Made a million, I don’t even count no more (Woo, woo)
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| I just fucked her then I kicked her, no romancin'
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| She just like me 'cause my diamonds dancin' like a ballerina
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| If a nigga movin' by myself, then I gotta have a Nina
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| Told that bitch I only want her, I ain’t never ever need her
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| Gotta get a Puma deal, waitin' on my call for memory
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| Slangin' that white girl, Miley Cyrus, but my plug Vietnamese
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| See all these niggas hate me 'cause I got these racks on me
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| And my diamonds water, bitch, I spent a dub for the submarine
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| I got a new broad in every city I’ve been steppin' in
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| I hopped on the private with Louis V luggage
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| I got a new bag and hopped in the Benz
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| Got the new Cartier glasses
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| I’m Crippin', lil' nigga, the navy blue tinted the lens
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| I just need Benjamins, I don’t need no friends
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| I got different hoes, in different area codes (Woo, woo)
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| I feel like Luda, hop out with the shooters (Woo, woo)
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| If I’m gon' cuff that bitch, gotta make sure that her head right (Woo, woo)
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| Got a red beam, caught him sleepin' at the red light
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| These niggas been cappin', I can’t do that shit no mo' (Woo, woo)
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| If a nigga wasn’t real, he can’t be around Ricch no more (No)
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| Hit it one time, I can’t even fuck no more (Woo, woo)
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| Made a million, I don’t even count no more (Woo, woo) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Area Codes , by - Roddy Ricch. Song from the album Feed Tha Streets II, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп