[Intro: Rich The Kid]
(Space)
Okay, okay
Yeah, we still Rich Forever
Yeah
(The ADHD)

[Chorus: Rich The Kid]
I been wakin' up to racks, bitch (Bitch)
Quarter milli', need a rack lift
My lil' n***a let the MAC rip (Chop, chop, chop)
Left a baby on her bottom lip (Lip)
Most of these hoes get hit and get flipped
Most of these n***as ain't real, can't trip
Pardon me, bought a Prada fit
Gettin' money, like a lot of it, okay

[Verse 1: Rich The Kid]
Walk through in Egypt with three hundred (Three hundred)
Pull out her bed then I sleep on it (I sleep on it)
Pull out my dick and she eat on it (Eat on it)
She a lil' freak and she suckin', no teeth on it
I was dead broke, had to sleep on the couch
Pull out the Lamb' with the keys to the house
On the way to your bitch, had to reroute (Reroute)
And the money keep comin' like fuck a drought (Fuck it)
Baguettes, baguettes
Bitch see my neck and my wrist and she ready
Pop up on her late night like Freddy
I'ma cut the bitch off, machete
My lil' n***a let the MAC rip
Seen a opp, had the whole clip
Think he flexin', but this old drip
I'm tryna buy a brick with poker chips
Blow a bag at Saks, can't go to Barneys (Yeah)
I got too many racks on me (Woo)
I done said that my coupe is retarded (Retarded)
Like damn, I can't even start it, valet can't park it (Damn)
Gettin' more bags than a market (Bags)
Put it on his head, a target
N***a wan' run with the opps that he thought was the opps
We gon' mop him and chalk him
[Chorus: Rich The Kid]
I been wakin' up to racks, bitch (Racks, bitch)
Quarter milli', need a rack lift
My lil' n***a let the MAC rip
Left a baby on her bottom lip (Lip)
Most of these hoes get hit and get flipped
Most of these n***as ain't real, can't trip
Pardon me, bought a Prada fit
Gettin' money, like a lot of it, okay

[Verse 2: Polo G & Rich The Kid]
Uh, spent the lil' bag on these Maison Margielas, walk in the bank, I'm withdrawin' whatever
"Need like a M," what I told to the teller, 'member was trappin' no matter the weather
Talkin' my shit 'cause I been doin' better, Glock with a stick, we ain't grippin' Berettas
Them murderers lit, we Too Turnt forever, surgical shit, we'll get you together (Uh)
I make a call, them killers en route, we been lampin', it ain't hard to figure you out
Tracy campin' outside of that lil' n***a house, doin' damage, them hollows keep hittin' his scalp
1300 the gang, and I put us on the map, come and see what my n***as about
We don't fuck with no lames, bitches don't come to the telly to fuck, then we kickin' 'em out
But 'cause Polo my name, she do whatever I want, I just put my whole dick in her mouth
Let that .40 go bang, we put his ass in the grave and they wish they can go dig him out
My lil' n***a let the Drac' spit, say less, we don't ever say shit
Shoot it out, check out my J, bitch, ballin' on 'em, James Naismith (Ball, ball, ball, ball, ball)

[Chorus: Rich The Kid]
I been wakin' up to racks, bitch (Racks, bitch)
Quarter milli', need a rack lift
My lil' n***a let the MAC rip
Left a baby on her bottom lip (Lip)
Most of these hoes get hit and get flipped
Most of these n***as ain't real, can't trip
Pardon me, bought a Prada fit
Gettin' money, like a lot of it, okay
[Outro: Rich The Kid]
Okay, okay, okay