R$CH lyrics

[Hook]
This one for the rich n*ggas
Get high on a b*tch n*gga
This one for the rich n*ggas, rich n*ggas
Get high on a b*tch n*gga

[Verse 1: $kinny]
Paper cuts countin' money
$kinny pockets gettin' chubby
Why your crew lookin' crumby?
Your whole lifestyle bummy
I make music for the druggies
The potheads and the gully-gullys
I don't break bread with no dummies
If you wasn't with me we ain't buddies, no
100 bands, they upset
All my n*ggas they in the jet
We pull up in some' foriegn
Why you pull up in some' borin'?
Stars in my roof, two seater coupe
Hit the gas, had your b*tch in two
I got cash in the bag and that two-two too
Cali ass in the past with the woop, woop, woop
I get around n*gga, holy father, holy ghost
Hold me close, if overdose on holy smoke
These lonely hoes be holy gross
Like moldy clothes they need to go, but I'm aight still
f*ck the cops, drop and hop a pile of steel
Pop some commas, drop some dollars
Pop Nirvana, split the Coupe DeVille, it's suicide for real n*gga
[Hook: Sample + Skeme]
Rich n*gga
Hear one for the rich n*ggas
Get high on a b*tch n*gga
High on a b*tch n*gga
This one for the rich n*ggas, rich n*ggas
Get high on a b*tch n*gga

[Verse 2: Skeme]
It's clear to see a n*gga playin' chess, no checker moves
I hardly listen to these rappers, what they rappin' 'bout ain't never true
They waste 16 bars talking 'bout some sh*t they never do
Rich n*gga introduce these hoes to it like they never knew
Top floor suite in Vegas, man I feel like it's a road night
The b*tches runnin' with me lookin' like stars, cue the strobe lights
I'm the type of n*gga might just pull up in a Masi
Type of n*gga spend 100K and then forget about it
They clapping for a n*gga like they really want an encore
I made a million already, what he still making songs for?
I guess I just do it for the love my n*gga
Middle fingers up, 12 shots before a judge my n*gga
I'm a

[Hook: Sample + Skeme]
Rich n*gga
Hear one for the rich n*ggas
Get high on a b*tch n*gga
High on a b*tch n*gga
This one for the rich n*ggas, rich n*ggas
Get high on a b*tch n*gga
[Verse 3: Ace Hood]
Young rich n*gga got his abs on fleek, make the hoes go crazy
Black motherf*cker, hundred grand in the duffel in the back of the May-B
All that hating never fazed me
Counted out and being doubted is the type of sh*t that made me
Money, the power, the respect
Not a stereotypical reject
Youngin as dope as the Pyrex
I got a crib big enough to fit a protest, cold text
Period, why the f*ck the competition always curious?
f*ck they gassin' all these rappers, are you serious?
I played your new sh*t and then I started giggling
Rich n*gga, made a whole lot more than six figures
I can never make my mind up at the car dealer
Rocking Saint Laurent jeans with some Margielas
Before 21, dog, I was a rich n*gga
I keep the Glock on me only for you f*ck n*ggas
I got my neighbors all thinking I'm a dope dealer
Hood Nation
If you a n*gga the realest, [?] go getter

[Hook: Sample + Skeme]
Rich n*gga
Hear one for the rich n*ggas
Get high on a b*tch n*gga
High on a b*tch n*gga
This one for the rich n*ggas, rich n*ggas
Get high on a b*tch n*gga