Rich Gang - Fly Rich lyrics

[Intro: Future] We gon’ get to it, n***a By any means necessary We were born like this [Hook: Future] I be on some fly n***a sh** when I step out… f** what y’all talkin’ about I be on some rich n***a sh** when I step out… f** what y’all talkin’ about f** what y’all talkin’ about f** what y’all talkin’ about f** what y’all talkin’ about I be on some fly, rich n***a sh**, steppin’ out I be on that fly, rich n***a sh**, steppin’ out f** what y’all talkin’ about [Verse 1: Tyga] Quarter-mill for the car, quarter-mill on the arm sponsored links Black Double-R, back the f** off Drophead, cut your head off, hard top, no soft Wet p**y turn me on when it keep me hard King sh**, Versace tiles, I ain’t dryin’ off Marble floors, you dusty n***as couldn’t walk on Jesus walked on water, so I’mma walk on charters Private jets, baguettes, only f** with ballers All this, half a mill, first week of August I ain’t even doin’ shows, I’m just workin’ on the album Forty for the feesha, I just payed my mama’s Visa You in the club breathin’, that Ten X, you n***as Beavis She give me bu*t, head – get brain like a genius I got that dope sh**, the 80s chrome Alpinas White Beamer – my son gon’ inherit this flow You n***as gumball drops on the bottom of my sole [Hook] [Verse 2: Meek Mill] Young n***a, we Rich Gang Came up from that rich game Picture me rollin’ down… Black Double-R with your b**h, mane With that top off and that drophead Pull up on ‘em, they drop dead n***as talkin’ that bird sh** When them birds came, they was not dead And I was out there with that work From the 15th to the 1st My clique mean and they merk We’ll let them clips squeeze like dirt When it come to them dollars, n***a, why bother? These n***as don’t want no problems ‘Cause I’ll k** all y’all dead, put a price on your head Get your brain, I doubt it I be on that fly sh** – M-O-B that mob sh** Boy, I’m talkin’ G5 sh** Fifty racks for that ride, sh** That ain’t yours, that’s my b**h You clocked out and I signed in We young n***as, we grindin’ We shinin’ like diamonds [Hook] [Verse 3: Mystikal] I’m in the club pa**in’ weed to the b**hes, like “hit this sh**” Your stupid a** outside talkin’ ‘bout “get me in!” Should’ve known I was a fool when I moved When I pulled up in that Bentley Told y’all I was against it, somethin’ like a pimp Don’t say I didn’t – million-dollar flow Got a lot of dough, brand new clothes VIP for n***as like me Wish a motherf**er would touch that rope Rappers, hustlers, dealers, k**ers Thugs, goons, beasts, guerillas Money, cars, j**els, chinchillas Jets, cribs, condos, villas Say that, then… (hold up) Goddamn right, b**h I’ve been fly since way back when That’s right, I am YMCM, Grave Street, play that, then Runnin’ off the tread like a motherf**in’ masthead You know that’s him Tryna sham when you come around stars like us They threw the din Ain’t got your game tight, ain’t got your swag up Shame on them Your legs too little and your T-Shirt big n***a, go to the gym For the love of my clique, we up in this b**h So sorry that your girl’s s**in’ my dick Throwin’ money in the air like I’m sick of this sh** [Hook]