34 lyrics

[Intro]
30, you a fool for this one

[Chorus]
Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four
Pants saggin', bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close
Church in session, talk sh*t like the pastor, catch the holy ghost
Trap is bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door
We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it
Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic
Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it's automatic
You work at Lids, puttin' sh*t on your kids, go'n with all that cappin'
(Talk your sh*t, Rich Homie)

[Verse 1]
Pulled up in that Benz
I hopped out perfect (I hopped out clean)
Tried to rob me, you got killed
Now was it worth it? (fa-fa-fa-fa)
Might buy that Maybach
I grew up without no curtains (might buy that 6-3, n*gga)
And when I get it
I'ma keep my windows rolled up on purpose (ayy, ayy)
You can't tell a n*gga like me sh*t (nah)
I ain't have it all when I was little (nope)
Sixteen years old, drinkin' liquor (what?)
I ain't never ever touched a beer (ha)
I ain't never ever touch a mill' (never)
Til I stayed down and start rappin' (I stayed down, n*gga)
Then I turned my dreams into reality (that right too)
I rode that
[Chorus]
Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four
Pants saggin', bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close
Church in session, talk sh*t like the pastor, catch the holy ghost
Trap is bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door
We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it
Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic
Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it's automatic
You work at Lids, puttin' sh*t on your kids, go'n with all that cappin'

[Verse 2]
We were growin' up, fightin' when we were kids (yeah)
Remember some nights where we ain't eat? (ayy)
I was Holyfield, hustlin' in the trap (truth)
They was Mike Tyson, bitin' on the kid (ayy, Mike)
I remember tryin' to get rich (hey)
Smokin' two for fives of the mid (woo)
Never had nothing growin' up (nah)
n*gga, don't be surprised when I get it (ayy)
Where were you when I was on my di*k? (woo)
I was so broke, I needed fix (yup)
Reminiscin' 'bout me growin' up
You know I hate to talk about this sh*t (I do)
Load the ten and walked up out the b*tch (ten)
Stripper fame, tryin' to see who gettin' it (ha)
Walkin' around with that thang on me
And you know I got my license for this b*tch (Rich Homie, baby)
[Chorus]
Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four
Pants saggin', bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close
Church in session, talk sh*t like the pastor, catch the holy ghost
Trap is bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door
We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it
Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic
Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it's automatic
You work at Lids, puttin' sh*t on your kids, go'n with all that cappin'