Lyrics Rich The Kid

Rich The Kid

Real Deal

You know niggas talking about this man

I'm bout to fuck 100,000 right now

Aye, dang, woah

Fuck on your bitch and I leave

Can't cuff her, I'ma mistreat her

Trap phone got a beeper

They was talkin' to the people

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood

Pick a model in the hills

Wrist froze, neck chill

I got the hundreds, a real deal

Pick the model in the hills

Percocet, pop a pill

I got the hundreds, real deal

The Rollie, the boogers is real chill

Bitches bustin' out the gate

You would take her on a date

Cum on her face, make a mess

More bullets for the tec

Melrose with the O's

Take a picture for some hoes

Take a picture for some hoes

I'm dabbin' around with a bankroll

She'll fuck for Chanel

You was talkin' to the 12

I was playin' with a scale

Baby ship it through the mail

Fuck on your bitch and I leave

Can't cuff her, I'ma mistreat her

Trap phone got a beeper

It was talkin' to the people

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood

Pick a model in the hills

Wrist froze, neck chill

I got the hundreds, a real deal

I was playin' with a scale

Fuck nigga gon' tell

Dab sharp like nails

Two guns, sonic tails

Free block gang kill

Baby powder in the mail

Finesse a nigga, I'm a player

Then I move to the Himalayas

Shell catches no shells

Cookie gas in the L

Fuckin' hoes on film

In case the bitch wanna tell

Try and lie and say I ate the bitch

We done run her through the whole clique

I don't really fuck with atheists

Crosses on my neck, I'm bankin' it

Beast mode, can't tame it

Skippa got the chopper, aimin' it

And we ain't shootin' at your legs

And we ain't shootin' at the pancreas

QC, the label dangerous

I got a bitch, finna wrang a bitch

Hold the squad down, anchor it

And my money counter accurate

Fuck on your bitch and I leave

Can't cuff her, I'ma mistreat her

Trap phone got a beeper

It was talkin' to the people

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood

Pick a model in the hills

Wrist froze, neck chill

I got the hundreds, a real deal

I got the hundreds, a real deal

All my diamonds on chill

Real gold, ice grill

I'm sipping lean, crack the seal

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood

I was broke, now I'm good

Three grams in my wood

Yeah I got it out the mud

I'm ridin' round in this foreign

All these bitches yeah they goin'

All this money man comin'

All these fuckin' blue hundreds

And no I don't wear the Margielas

And Yeezy's on, check the weather

Two bitches flappin' like they feathers

I'm ballin' hard like Mayweather, yeah

Fuck on your bitch and I leave

Can't cuff her, I'ma mistreat her

Trap phone got a beeper

It was talkin' to the people

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood

Pick a model in the hills

Wrist froze, neck chill

I got the hundreds, a real deal

I won't take a bitch up on a date

Suckin' dick and then we fornicate

Like a dirty pistol, she a throw away

I'm goin' through it so I pour away

My wrist is cold like a blizzard

I think that bitch is a ho but I miss her

Got it out the mud to a Fisker

Young nigga been grindin' hard for a minute

I'm a savage and a menace

I be thuggin', fuck an image

I got action for you actin' niggas

Man the trenches, diamond dancin' nigga

You a lil bitch, lil nigga

I'm a big young rich nigga

I sip out the seal my nigga

One Actavis bottle your bills my nigga

I'm whippin' still, I cook up gefilte fish

Don't trust no ho cause a bitch gon' be a bitch

Don't trust no nigga cause it's cool to be a snitch

That nigga was talkin too much so it's cool to hit him with clips

Fuck on your bitch and I leave

Can't cuff her, I'ma mistreat her

Trap phone got a beeper

It was talkin' to the people

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood

Pick a model in the hills

Wrist froze, neck chill

I got the hundreds, a real deal