Video Rich Nigga Shit Part Juice Wrld de Young Thug 2024 Cristiana Lyrics

Young Thug - Rich Nigga Shit Part Juice Wrld Lyrics

Juicy
(Yo)
Navy
(Yo, Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?)
Ayy

Rich nigga shit, calamaris
I done pump faked on a split, I'm so sorry
1996 Benz, Tyler Perry
1996 rims like Atari
Ayy, brown diamonds on, bitch, I'm Nestlé
I don't play the radio, I'm not Greg Street
Chicken bock-bock like a Mexican
I keep Wockhardt on my belly, yeah (Yeah)

I just spent your salary
Walked inside of the exhibit
And bought the gallery (Uh, uh-huh)
I'm so wealthy, I done bought out
All my cavities (Uh-huh)
Havin' sex with your old lady
I lost calories (Uh-huh)
Rich shit, I'm playin'
Louis ping-pong with my bestie (Uh)
Made a TV show with some lesbians (Uh-huh)
Like the TV show, I done next-ed (Uh)
G-Star, pull your thorns out your carat (Uh-huh)
Bought my dog a new kennel
It's a palace (Grah, grah, grah)
I'm the fortune and the winners
Wanna best me (Skrt, skrt, skrt)
I rock minks when it ain't December
'Cause my diamonds (Drip, drip, drip)
Women lie and men lie
But not this money (Bitch, bitch)
I'm a 'rilla, call Coachella
Tell 'em comin' in Margiela
I don't like her, I can't sweat her
I just cum and keep it mellow
I got ninety pills on me
Like I'm Julius Peppers
Rolls-Royce truck umbrella
Go in for my brother
Rich nigga shit, calamaris
I done pump faked on a split, I'm so sorry
1996 Benz, Tyler Perry
1996 rims like Atari
Ayy, brown diamonds on, bitch, I'm Nestlé
I don't play the radio, I'm not Greg Street
Chicken bock-bock like a Mexican
I keep Wockhardt on my belly, yeah
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

Back in 'em days, minimum wage
Now a nigga up top, gettin' too paid
Slide on a opp block with a Blu-Ray
Extended clip, we movie gang
Your boyfriend like, "Ooh, she can't"
Went and took her anyway
Now he want his girl back, fuck you
Have a nice day (Yeah)
Burberry on my coat
If it's a problem, I'm pulling up ten-four
Walk in his house, smoke a nigga like indo
Percocet popper, don't fuck with the benzos
Party in the brib, hit the line for the info
Murder every nigga, murder every instrumental
They not my kinfolk
They finna get fucked up
When I hop out the Benz like Rambo, uh
Uh, shit'll make the devil dance
Leanin' all over this song
Don't think I stand a chance
Separate my rights from my wrongs
To never be wrong again
I'm DJ Khaled with it all
'Cause all I do is win
Rich nigga shit, calamaris
I done pump faked on a split, I'm so sorry
1996 Benz, Tyler Perry
1996 rims like Atari
Ayy, brown diamonds on, bitch, I'm Nestlé
I don't play the radio, I'm not Greg Street
Chicken bock-bock like a Mexican
I keep Wockhardt on my belly, yeah