Lyrics Rich Homie Quan

Rich Homie Quan

Back End

30, 00 for a Jesus piece, I put that on yo head

Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more, them boys will bite you in that bed

Talk to God before I eat, and end it off with a "Amen"

I don't care how tired I get, I'm gon' still run up them bands

I'mma still count up my back end, I'mma still do it for my fam

Just because I got a lil' money, that do not define the person I am

I don't give a fuck about what the critics say, I'mma stack it up for them papers

I clocked in, like I'm working

I ain't have to sell my soul, it ain't worth it

Sold out, sold out, now I'm mad

We done sold out, it's a hold out, hold out on them bags

We gon' roll 'bout 1 something, 4 of y'all, 2 in the van

I don't care what that money do, I'mma blow this shit like a fan

RIP to my nigga Shawty Lo, I'm still walking 'round feeling like the man

Commissary going out on Sunday, gotta make sure I still got a plan

Talk to my girl on Monday, on the phone with my hands in my pants

Walking around with my hand on my ear, I ain't heard a word that they saying

Niggas talk about what they gon' do, rubber bands still around that paper

Overdue for some new music, might as well put it out for my haters

Niggas talkin' hard, know they can't stop me, I'm in that front yard with them choppers

I'll do whatever for my partner, I hit the jewelry store with

30, 00 for a Jesus piece, I put that on yo head

Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more, them boys will bite you in that bed

Talk to God before I eat, and end it off with a "Amen"

I don't care how tired I get, I'm gon' still run up them bands

I'mma still count up my back end, I'mma still do it for my fam

Just because I got a lil' money, that do not define the person I am

I don't give a fuck about what the critics say, I'mma stack it up for them papers

I clocked in, like I'm working

I ain't have to sell my soul, it ain't worth it

Nigga lurkin', cell phone, no serivce

Tent on the car, not working, so I had to close them curtains (Ooooh)

Pulled up in something they ain't never heard of

I ain't seen no caution tape, but the whole scene I murdered

(Woooo) Lying to me, I'm used to bitches

Watching out who I'm talking to, cause a lot of niggas, they superstitious

Dirty pots, cause I used the dishes

40 Glock, keep it in my britches

50 shots of them big bullets, that lil' nigga might need stitches

That big body, I lean in it

That drop top selling [?] in it

And I ain't gotta wear a suit everyday to show a nigga I mean business

With all this lean, I need a kidney

Why the lil' boy goin' so hard

You tellin' on me, you the real 12

You lame as hell like a Soap Opera

30, 00 for a Jesus piece, I put that on yo head

Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more, them boys will bite you in that bed

Talk to God before I eat, and end it off with a "Amen"

I don't care how tired I get, I'm gon' still run up them bands

I'mma still count up my back end, I'mma still do it for my fam

Just because I got a lil' money, that do not define the person I am

I don't give a fuck about what the critics say, I'mma stack it up for them papers

I clocked in, like I'm working

I ain't have to sell my soul, it ain't worth it