| I didn’t know who to trust, once I hopped in the coupe
|
| Once I hopped in my bag, yeah, I didn’t know what to do
|
| Gotta get this money, you can’t let it change you
|
| But I can’t lie, all these hunnids got a nigga feelin' brand new
|
| I just fucked my main bitch on a private jet to Cancun
|
| Gave her my heart before I knew the bitch was ran through
|
| That’s why when it come to these hoes, I gotta stay in love with double cup,
|
| yeah
|
| Chasin' the bag, that’s on the regular, I gotta run it up, yeah
|
| When it came to gettin' racks, I got new dividends
|
| Got a thick brown skin bitch, I call her Cinnamon
|
| Took some losses in these streets, I gotta pack and then wait for the win
|
| I had to tuck a mil', I got in the field, nigga, then I did it again
|
| I was in the streets lil' nigga, I really went platinum, yeah
|
| Feelin' like Joe when I was in the trap, I was whippin' up Jacksons, yeah
|
| I was down bad, niggas turned they backs, yeah
|
| They ain’t know that I was fillin' up the mattress, yeah
|
| I was just a broke nigga, now a nigga designer my feet
|
| '17 foreign car, tinted windows, ridin' down the street, yeah
|
| I gotta feed the streets, the motto is «All my niggas gotta eat»
|
| I had to trap it out, I wasn’t even gettin' no sleep, yeah
|
| I didn’t know who to trust, once I hopped in the coupe
|
| Once I hopped in my bag, yeah, I didn’t know what to do
|
| Gotta get this money, you can’t let it change you
|
| But I can’t lie, all these hunnids got a nigga feelin' brand new
|
| I just fucked my main bitch on a private jet to Cancun
|
| Gave her my heart before I knew the bitch was ran through
|
| That’s why when it come to these hoes, I gotta stay in love with double cup,
|
| yeah
|
| Chasin' the bag, that’s on the regular, I gotta run it up, yeah
|
| Ayy, gotta put my new bitch in a mink
|
| She collect the bag like a Brink
|
| And that shit mean everything to me
|
| 'Cause she gotta ball like me
|
| I was gettin' off of robbin', I was on and off the road
|
| Had to learn the hard way that these streets so cold
|
| Celebratin' with the Ace of Spade, pourin' up the rose gold
|
| You would think I was in the garden how I’m pullin' up the Rolls
|
| You would think that I’m a shredder how I’m fuckin' up a check
|
| And I ain’t never played tennis but I got a couple on my neck
|
| She say she want me to flood the face to get the Audemars Piguet
|
| I’m the youngest richest nigga that been poppin' out the set
|
| I got the answers, nigga, I don’t need no auto-correct
|
| Got it jumpin' out my own city, then I moved to Brooklyn like the Nets, yeah,
|
| yeah
|
| I didn’t know who to trust, once I hopped in the coupe
|
| Once I hopped in my bag, yeah, I didn’t know what to do
|
| Gotta get this money, you can’t let it change you
|
| But I can’t lie, all these hunnids got a nigga feelin' brand new
|
| I just fucked my main bitch on a private jet to Cancun
|
| Gave her my heart before I knew the bitch was ran through
|
| That’s why when it come to these hoes, I gotta stay in love with double cup,
|
| yeah
|
| Chasin' the bag, that’s on the regular, I gotta run it up, yeah |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Brand New , by - Roddy Ricch. Song from the album Feed Tha Streets II, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп