| Whoa, whoa, whoa
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| Whoa, whoa
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| Whoa, whoa, whoa
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| Whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa
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| From out the streets, became a millionaire
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| I know niggas started in the trap, and they still there
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| 'Member I was robbin', I bought jewelry and I still wear it
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| Came a long way with all my niggas, and they still here
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| My big bro behind bars, fighting two hundred years
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| I got that call, I lost my dawg, and I don’t know how to feel
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| Gotta stay on savage time, you know it’s war time
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| I remember I ain’t used to leave the house without my .45
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| I ain’t got no time
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| 'Member Pappy had the Mackie at the stop sign
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| Shit was too, too real
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| I got my Glock, and laid 'em down, nigga, you knew the deal
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| That’s why I moved to the Hills, and I’m new to it
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| 'Cause I ain’t sure why my dawg had to make the news reel
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| Got promethazine in my eyes, I’m cryin' purple tears
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| The streets left me cold-hearted, they hurt me still
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| Uh, and that’s why I’m on tour, that’s why my house a resort
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| That’s why I got the four by four
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| I remember when I was low, tryna trap in front of the store
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| Hop fences on the police, from handcuffs to Rollies
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| These hoes didn’t know a nigga, now she claim she know me
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| I been counting' up the bag, yeah, yeah
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| I get the load on the bag, I’m fuckin' up yens
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| I go get the birdie, birdie, nigga, I need some hens
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| Thirty before thirty, I been settin' trends
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| Hop on the Forbes, I hop on the Forbes, I hop on the Forbes
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| I been countin' millions every time I board
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| Spend your whole budget in the designer store
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| Walk inside my closet, it’s designer galore
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| Bad bitch give me ya-ya in an Aventador
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| Bad bitch give me ne-e-e-e-e-e-e-eck
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| Flooded my wrist, it’s wet, wet, wet, wet, wet, wet, wet, wet
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| I’m boutta pack up the whole house, put it inside the suitcase
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| Put my dick inside her mouth like it’s Crest toothpaste
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| Yeah, she gave me head, like a toupée, huh
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| Got twenty hoes, they all my roommates, huh
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| Ten in the bed, ten in the pool, bae, huh
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| I need some bread, been trappin' for two days
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| If he rockin' with the opps, we gotta wet the block
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| Got my Glock in the Dior, but I got on Gucci socks
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| Drip too hard, you can’t ride this wave
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| Put my baby mama and my mom in a Bentayga |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Intro, artist - Roddy Ricch. Album song Please Excuse Me For Being Antisocial, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп