Nardo Wick - Rich Maniac

(Okay)

That young boy been on boss shit
They not fuckin' with 'em
He straight but if he over there when I spin
Better get to duckin' with 'em
I can't put my trust in niggas
I ain't trustin' niggas
Money Mitch had trust in Rico
See what happened to Rich Porter, nigga

Glizzy splash, this water, nigga
Glizzy flame been torchin', nigga
Them hollow tips torch a nigga
Camera flash in portrait, nigga
You know I ain't talkin 'bout no camera
You know I'm talkin' 'bout that burner, nigga
You know I ain't talkin 'bout no camera
You know I'm talkin' 'bout that heater, boy
Ain't got that heater, I beat a boy
How the hell that heater freeze a boy?
Pull up, make you beat it, boy
Pull up, she gon' eat the boy
Pull up, she gon' chop a kid
She play with balls like soccer kids
Tony tweakin' off them jigs
Not just one, he popped two of day
Paranoid of his own shadow
Wonder if he gon' split ya wig
Know I got that ol' Drake and I got that Sauer SIG
Pull up in a Focus Ford
Tryna everybody killed
Money don't shit mean
Niggas know I'm wicked still (I said it wrong)
Know I got that Draco and I got that SIG Sauer
Pull up in a Ford Focus
Tryna kill everybody
Money don't mean shit
Niggas know I'm still wicked
Yeah, that's right

That young boy been on boss shit
They not fuckin' with 'em
He straight but if he over there when I spin
Better get to duckin' with 'em
I can't put my trust in niggas
I ain't trustin' niggas
Money Mitch had trust in Rico
See what happened to Rich Porter, nigga

Bitch (mm-mm)
I'm a maniac
Illustrate a nigga block, I'm who painted that (mm-mm)
I'm a psycho
Known for makin' niggas crash, call Geico (gang-gang)
Bitch, I'm insane
Brodie slide, I'm right behind, ain't gotta explain (wicked, wicked)
I'm a fuckin' monster
Put a nigga six feet like three niggas stomped 'em (mm, mm)

Please don't play with me
'Cause I don't fear shit and I wouldn't even play with me
Nina got evicted now ,that bitch stay with me
Like my name Michelle, I keep that K in front of me
Uh, uh, what's yo' Cash App?
Just tell me where they be and I'll get you cashed out
I got the drop, I spin the block, the whole street assed out
I watched him drop, he went to twitchin'
Think he lagged out (he glitchin', damn)
This bitch got me mad as fuck
She sent the drop, I slid through, yeah, I had picked her up
She said we can't fuck 'cause she came on her red stuff
What the fuck? Stupid bitch, what you came for?
Uh, uh, I get to tweakin'
Uh, uh, .22 get to tweakin'
Uh, uh, Varis get to tweakin'
Uh, uh, everybody tweakin'
Uh-uh, uh-uh, I get to shootin'
Uh, uh-uh, .22 get to shootin'
Uh, uh, Varis get to shootin'
Uh, uh, everybody shootin'

Blocka, blocka, another nigga gone
Push up while you playin' music, glizzy sing along
Soon as you hit the door, we fuck, ain't with the prolong
I'm finna go with main bitch so don't call my phone (don't call me)

Written by:
Horace Walls

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.

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