Roddy Ricch



[Chorus: Gunna]
Cooler than a b*tch (Cool)
Let her think twice, my shooter in the VIP (Yeah)
Tenth grade, bought a Franck Mueller off of licks (Yeah)
Percocet, feelin' like I'm cruisin' on a ship (Woah)
It's your birthday, put some icin' on your wrist (Ice)
I reached every goal, had to write another list (Yeah)
I'm strokin' on a toe while she bitin' on her lip (Stroke)
I fly across the globe and I call another hit (Fly)
They watchin' 'cause they know how slimey it can get (Slime)
I'm ridin' to the top from the bottom of ditch (Bottom off the ditch)
Your favorite rapper burnt and he runnin' out of hits (Runnin' out of hits)
Say the wrong word, and I'ma shoot him in his sh*t (Yeah)
We some big dogs, you a poodle, I'm a pit (Shoot him)
I don't trust these hoes at all, just as far as I can spit (Far as I can spit)
We f*ckin' up the mall, if you like it, then you get it (Like it, then you get it)
We stack the money tall, if you broke, then we'll fix it (Tall)

[Verse 1: Gunna]
I feel like a rocket, I'm goin' outer space (Outer space)
Got pretty vibes with me, I make sure all of 'em straight
I dress a b*tch, I put her in some Prada and BAPE
Young Wunna international in all fifty states (Woah)
Listen, I might buss a n*gga, war ready
Chop a n*gga crew with a machete
Smokin' gasoline, ninety-three, unleaded
Card never D'd, I can spend without a limit (Yeah)
Three Rolls watches and they all got baguetties (Woah)
I got ten bad b*tches, I keep all of 'em happy (Yeah)
You ain't did nothin' for my b*tch, bought an all-gold Patek
She can suck a good di*k, get the Benz four 'matic (Benz)
This a rich n*gga, come and feel my fabric
Young GunWunna, I got hundreds in my pants and my jacket
Chandelier all in the ceilin', think we f*ckin' in the palace
When you really gettin' millions, it gon' up a n*gga status, up a n*gga status
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2018 Bee Lyrics.Net