Rich The Kid and YoungBoy Never Broke Again - Automatic

(DY Krazy)

All these foreigns automatic
They know where we come from, now they see us livin' lavish
And I done fell in love with all this money, I wan' marry it
My niggas in the feds, they almost had it, they was grabbin' it
Fresher than a manic
All this money make you panic
She don't wanna lose her soul
All for these racks, she let me have it

I bring them cars out, nigga
I made it straight up out them trenches
Ever since go all out with us, VVS's in all our pendants
I gave shawty Chanel filled with benjis
I ain't know she a ball out spender
When I see her, no waitin', I'm divin' in it
If you want it, you got it, don't do the lendin'
In the back of the 'Bach with the richest linen
I got fifty and nothin' less stickin' out the glizzy
Got the latest yo-yo with them bodies in it
From the front of the yard I can dot a nigga
From the top of the bleed I can spot a nigga
You know that I'm on it, you know that I'm holdin'
Ain't no waitin', if you play I'ma pop a nigga
I ain't doin' no time, forever I'm chosen
Pull up throwin' them B's with a hundred pistols
But Quando my nigga, forever we rollin'
I'm sweaty right now, been inside the system
I done ran it way up, nigga, I'm fully loaded
Bitch, I pull up, nigga

Fresher than a manic (oh, oh, oh)
All this money make you panic (oh, oh)
She don't wanna lose her soul
All for these racks, she let me have it (she let me have it, let me have it)
All these foreigns automatic (-matic)
They know where we come from, now they see us livin' lavish (lavish)
And I done fell in love with all this money, I wan' marry it (marry it)
My niggas in the feds, they almost had it, they was grabbin' it (grabbin' it, woo)

Money automatic, racks, I gotta have it (racks)
Talk about the cash, I'm a fuckin' addict (what?)
And your bitch on my dick, she a dick fanatic (dick fanatic)
She flexin' but might just be acrobatic (flexible)
I'ma ball out with it (ball out)
Don't need the rubber, she comin' with it (comin' with it)
She a freaky ass bitch, let Three hit it (let Three hit it)
Pull up in the Lamb', that's three-fifty (no cap)
All these foreigns in my yard, she gon' fuck me in the car
'Cause she know that I'm a sta-a-a-ar
Kill the pussy, I'ma stab it (stab it)
See the money, gotta grab it (woo)
You do too much hatin', that's a bad habit (Rich)

Fresher than a manic (oh, oh, oh)
All this money make you panic (oh, oh)
She don't wanna lose her soul
All for these racks, she let me have it (she let me have it, let me have it)
All these foreigns automatic
They know where we come from, now they see us livin' lavish (lavish)
And I done fell in love with all this money, I wan' marry it (marry it)
My niggas in the feds, they almost had it, they was grabbin' it (grabbin' it)

Written by:
Dimitri Roger, Kentrell Gaulden

Publisher:
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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