Ricky Rick - Sprinter Van

Yeah
Run up them racks give a fuck bout the weather
Run up them racks give a fuck bout the weather
(Give a fuck bout the weather)
Uh
Yeah
Uh
Look
Run up them racks give a fuck bout the weather
These niggas keep talkin' bout bags, I got several
I'm in a Hemi, might smash on the pedal
He speak on the gang, we gon' hop out a sprinter van
He mad that his girlfriend, she been a fan
Stack up them chips, get the fuck, nigga, stick to the plan
He ain't talkin' that cash, I don't know what he sayin'
Free Trevy Trev, my bro locked in that can
Diamonds dancin', they on my wrist
Canada Goose and the Gucci, she know i'm the man
And that shit ain't debated at all
They want me to fall
If I want you dead all it takes is a call
My brothers some dogs, we don't dap, nigga give me a paw
I walk in the mall, I don't fuck 'round I ball
Brodie omerta, he blind, he don't know what he saw
These niggas some slouches while i'm standing tall
Okay, maybe they get it
I had to take me some risks to get figures
She ain't my type, i'm in love with her figure
Brodie turn on that flashlight, make him get the picture
She wasn't up to my standards so I had to ditch her
I know I ain't gon call her, i'll still get her digits
I keep racks in rotation, sumn just like a fidget
Her new nigga a lame, yeah, I know she must miss me, yeah
Run up them racks give a fuck bout the weather
These niggas keep talkin' bout bags, I got several
I'm in a Hemi, might smash on the pedal
He speak on the gang, we gon' hop out a sprinter van
He mad that his girlfriend, she been a fan
Stack up them chips, get the fuck, nigga, stick to the plan
He ain't talkin' that cash, I don't know what he sayin'
Free Trevy Trev, my bro locked in that can

Written by:
Rick Walker

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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