Rude lyrics

by

Quavo


(Intro)
I’m so rude
Drive nothing but new schools
Forgies
It’s Guwop
Drumma Boy
Brick Squad
Say I’m rude
It’s Guwop

(Bridge)
b*tches tell me that I’m being rude (so)
Baby tell me how I’m being rude (ho)
I only talk to bad b*tches, that’s how I do (I got money b*tch)
That’s how I feel…

(Hook)
I don’t talk to broke n*ggas, I’m so rude
I don’t talk to ugly b*tches, I’m so rude
Got the loudest diamonds on, i know i’m rude
And my car just painted loud, I know it’s rude
I don’t talk to broke ass b*tches, I’m so rude
I don’t talk to monkey n*ggas, I’m too rude
I don’t drive no old schools, new schools
And I’m pullin my new schools on tennis shoes
Forgies
(Verse)
b*tches say I’m rude, yet in the worst way
I wouldn't bought yo ass a drink ho on yo birthday
This H ain’t Hilfiger, b*tch this H stand for Hermes
Ya lay down with these dogs ass hoes they’'ll give you herpes
These b*tches passin pus*y out, I say no thank you
Like my lil brother Nate, I give they ass Nathan
Codeine so thick, this sh*t look just like it’s Jack Daniels
I’m not no liquor drinker, I prefer champagne
Call me the black Hugh Hefner right in East Atlanta
n*ggas handcuffin hoes and don’t read their miranda
Five hoes wearing Gucci Gucci leading by example
So inflicted, my M6 I’m back, I love to gamble

(Hook)
I don’t talk to broke n*ggas, I’m so rude
I don’t talk to ugly b*tches, I’m so rude
Got this loud it’s down my zone, I know I’m rude
And my car just painted loud, I know it’s rude
I don’t talk to broke ass b*tches, I’m so rude
I don’t talk to monkey n*ggas, I’m too rude
I don’t drive no old schools, new schools
And I’m pullin my new schools on tennis shoes
Forgies

(Verse)
I’m so rude, I’m so motherf*ckin rude
If you had this check then you would be rude too
I don’t have to talk to you, don’t want to talk to you
Ain’t no need to talk to you, no need to talk to you
Go get some motherf*ckin money – what you ought to do
No after thoughts cuz baby I no longer thought of you
Say she’s a soccer mom, I guess she tricked some college dude
And it ain’t bout him man, it’s all bout his wallet do
She tryin to fight it, but my money I overpower you
b*tch don’t deny it, you know you like the way that bottles move
My charger sittin on 6, it crawled down like a crawler do
I’m not no bugga boo, b*tch that’s that sh*t that stalkers do
It’s Gucci
(Hook)
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