"Rich In Rome" lyrics

"Rich In Rome"
(feat. LAZER DIM 700 & Nino Paid)

Haha (Ah-haha), the fuck?
Hahaha
Yeah (Working, nine-three-two)
Yeah, yeah

Uh, took back the Porsche, I was drivin' too fast
Got caught in Carolina, now I gotta do court
Never ever, ever break bread to be layin' in a bed with no bitch who ain't part of your story
Hermès blanket with the Hermès sheets with the Hermès pillow, I'ma Hermès snore (He hasn't slept in probably, uh, seven days)

Me and ian fire at your suite
We kickin' shit in, we kickin' your motherfuckin' door
Sleep on me back then, them folks done woke up, back then, I was poor
LeBron in my pants, I got Glock 23, I'm talkin' 'bout Michael Jordan

They be like, "ian, you been duckin'?" Why is that my bad?
I tell a bitch, "I got bored"
She got no interest in learnin' about my past, that bitch wanna spend my money
Lil' ass deal just hit, you can bet your ass, he already spent that hundred (Ha)
Skinny-ass pants, I can't even fit my bands inside these fuckin' Purple
Skinny-ass blunt, and I'm still gettin' high as hell, 'cause this shit fuckin' purple
Fine shit, I got this bitch fine as hell, she don't need no fuckin' surgeon
Y'all boys be like, "Damn, my bitch love ian, I can't fuckin' stand him"
I keep waking up lost again and again, I need some fuckin' answers

Shit been gettin' pricy with these brands, I start to fuckin' shoplift
Everybody gettin' geeked up on these drugs, everybody fuckin' pop shit
Me and ian done smoked too many blunts, man, inside the fuckin' cockpit
We perform this shit, we goin' crazy, get inside the fuckin' moshpit
Every fit I put on, this shit go crazy, niggas try to fuckin' copy
Every fit I put on, that shit look lazy, I'm still fuckin' ballin'
Took her out to eat, she ain't order that much, but she damn sure ate when we both got home
Lil' ho a ten, but she talk too much
I'm the only one ever that's told her, "No"
I know the ho was gon' come, when she brought one friend, I knew the lil' ho was gon' go
I went out, I ain't gotta have a fire in my pants, I ain't gotta post at the store

Youngin, I'm rich as hell, and my face card good in the streets, and I still get the bags for the low (Go)
Yo, this a weak-ass beat (Fye), I'ma still run this bitch, 'cause I'm still tryna work on my flow (Alright)
Semi-automatic, fully-automatic, young nigga hop out, look like a pro (Grrt, grrt, grrt)
Niggas swear he got it, nigga never had it, I don't wanna hang with you, boy, you a ho (Alright)
I'm really a bad influence, I shouldn't be hangin' with ian (I shouldn't be hanging-)
I'm lookin' for fine shit, young nigga came with LAZER and no, I ain't talkin' 'bout beams (Fuck, fuck, fuck)
Nigga, you dead wrong, why you is you blowin' my phone up knowin' I'm high off the lean? (Alright)
Nigga tryna reach for the chain, I beat breaks off his ass like Rodney King
Why the fuck I go last on the song? The next time, nigga, I'm startin' the beat
Nigga, we safe in the hood, told ian, "You good 'cause nigga, you ridin' with me" (Nigga, you ridin' with me)
I ain't gon' trip 'bout a bitch, can't trip 'bout a bitch, these hoes caught my dub and a pizza (Alright)
Dumb-ass nigga, and you never gon' make it off rappin', that shit you been droppin' is weak (Weak-ass shit)


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