Lyrics Rich The Kid

Rich The Kid

From The Streets

(OG Park..

This that old trap shit..)

(Deko)

(Trap..Trap..)

In the trap eating busy bee’s, Rich the kid, I’m from the street

I got ice all over me, got four ho’s in the back seat

My pockets so swoll like a fat nigga, Had the gas and the pills I was taxing ya’

Had to tell mama we made it! Bitch in the coupe goin’ crazy. (Trap..trap..trap..)

[x2]

In the coupe goin’ crazy, no license

She wanna fuck, yeah cause of my diamonds

I ain’t finna buy the bitch red bottoms, she must be crazy. (Bitch you crazy!)

Had the pussy more diamonds than the Rich the kid Chain

Shooters on shooters, ain’t saying no names

I got the gwalla just look at my ring

QC the label they not playing no games

Put my wrist in the pot where the woop, with a watch cause my motherfuckin’ rollie is a waterproof

Everything Vintage, you can not find it. Me and your bitch, somewhere in Hawaii

I really worried bout another, cause Nick he keep the chop. (In the trap..trap..trap..)

Eating Busy B’s, Rich Nigga in the foreign I don’t need no key

In the trap eating busy bee’s, Rich the kid, I’m from the street

I got ice all over me, got four ho’s in the back seat

My pockets so swoll like a fat nigga, Had the gas and the pills I was taxing ya’

Had to tell mama we made it! Bitch in the coupe goin’ crazy

[x2]

Pockets on swoll like a fat nigga, Rocking the work, no taxin’?

I ain’t never been a fake watch busta. These bitch gon’ fuck, can’t trust ‘em

Ridin’ round, sippin’ on lean. My chopper got an infrared beam

Trap gon’ Jump got fiends. Ain’t talkin bout Alicia, got keys

Rich the Kid, I’m from the street, Yeah I made it, so I got to thank Jesus

She gave me nothin’ but head, no Beavis. That brain so good, no genius

Like French, I ain’t worried bout nothin’. That pistol got a hundred round drum

In the trap like Busy B’s, I’m about your bitch like an mp3

In the trap eating busy bee’s, Rich the kid, I’m from the street

I got ice all over me, got four ho’s in the back seat

My pockets so swoll like a fat nigga, Had the gas and the pills I was taxing ya’

Had to tell mama we made it! Bitch in the coupe goin’ crazy

[x2]