TM88, Young Nudy and Pi'erre Bourne - Richer Dreams
808 Mafia
Man, I miss my guys, this shit getting ugly, ayy
Told my dawg we gon' be good, my nigga, trust me
When it's all said and done, she still gon' suck me, ayy
Money fast, how it come like it rush me, ayy
But I want a bigger bag, ayy
Want a bigger crib, ayy
Want a bigger chain, ayy
Want the sickest whip, ayy
Want some bigger shit, ayy
When I'm bigger, bitch, ayy
We just nigga rich, ayy
Bitch, I'm nigga rich
That nigga not cut like me
Can't get no bucks like me
That's why I don't chill with them niggas
I rather get richer alone
Yeah I'm a home run hitter
Yeah, I just be taking her home
And you's a phony nigga
Man, you can't go back home
I be in the hood like every month
These niggas more pressed than the Claremont's
My life a movie, I'm Paramount
But it's some shit I won't share about
Tell me more shit I don't care about
I'm waiting on money, Pi'erre about?
Can't be scared and then stay in the house
Used to throw parties and air it out
Now I'm up for a Grammy now
We got first, now it's second down
Chase that down, we gon' throw it out
Money like hair, I grow it out
I was on Gretchen for real
Bitch I'm four for real
My nigga don't lift no weight
But he always hold the steel
My nigga done caught a case
They trying to give him ten years
Shawty showed the future fast
That past catch up for real
Introduce you to the bag
And we gone touch a mil'
You know why my pockets fat
'Cause my bank like Uncle Phil's
Man, I miss my guys, this shit getting ugly, ayy
Told my dawg we gon' be good, my nigga, trust me
When it's all said and done, she still gon' suck me, ayy
Money fast, how it come like it rush me, ayy
But I want a bigger bag, ayy
Want a bigger crib, ayy
Want a bigger chain, ayy
Want the sickest whip, ayy
Want some bigger shit, ayy
When I'm bigger, bitch, ayy
We just nigga rich, ayy
Bitch, I'm nigga rich
Yeah
Big guns (big guns) big clips (big clips)
Better run (better run), sank ships (sank ships)
We kill shit (we kill shit), like the Navy (like the Navy)
If you switch, then your pussy ass fugazi (you pussy, nigga)
I got racks on me, fucking your old lady (oh yeah)
She might come back to your nigga, maybe (nigga, maybe)
I might send a shooter 'round your way, maybe (maybe)
Hope these niggas ain't tough, nigga
Don't try to play with me (don't play with me)
I'ma keep it on my side, bitch, it spray with me (oh yeah)
Thirty round, a hundred round, this on Glock-17 (yeah)
I'm the same nigga came up out them apartments (trenches)
Man, I miss my guys, this shit getting ugly, ayy
Told my dawg we gon' be good, my nigga, trust me
When it's all said and done, she still gon' suck me, ayy
Money fast, how it come like it rush me, ayy
But I want a bigger bag, ayy
Want a bigger crib, ayy
Want a bigger chain, ayy
Want the sickest whip, ayy
Want some bigger shit, ayy
When I'm bigger, bitch, ayy
We just nigga rich, ayy
Bitch, I'm nigga rich
Written by:
Bryan Lamar Simmons, Cory Moon, Javier Mercado, Joran Timothy Jenks, Michael Fournier, Quantavious Thomas
Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, The Administration MP, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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