This what I'm talkin' 'bout, boy (Hey, bitch!) looka here
(This the A, ho! This the A, ho! Yeah, this the A, ho!) It's Alabama!Fuck talkin', get took boy, looka here
Rich Boy really do it, boy, looka here
We can buy the bar all night, looka here
I can show you what a stack like, looka here
Boy, looka here; boy, looka here
Looka here, looka hereOff top I'm a tell ya this, some playa shit
A real nigga here now, better get ya bitch
Yeah, 'cause big pimpin' in the house now
If ya real, then you know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Rich Boy, I don't know what these niggas thankin'
Bet a thousand, shoot a thousand, what you niggas bankin'?
Comin' down like snow in the winter time
I don't know about you, but I'm gettin' mine
D-I-P never, cold nigga, hell yeah
Zone four, gon' pull up in the ATL
Gettin' money, already know what it is
Huh, don't stop, bitch, what the business is
Get mo' ass then a lazy boy sofa
Keep my toaster warm in my holster
See, you got ya lil' jewelry, but I'm chunked out
All the hatin', playboy, get ya stomped out[Chorus x 2]
Fuck talkin', get took boy, looka here
Rich Boy really do it, boy, looka here
We can buy the bar all night, looka here
I can show you what a stack like, looka hereNaw, I don't wear tight shirts wit' the cuff links
See, them big VS stones make ya eyes blink
Say I talk slow, and I rhyme funny
But I ain't thinkin' 'bout nothin' but the big money
Big cake, big shrimp on a big plate
Nigga so iced out like a snowflake
Don't hate, big crib wit' the big lake
Say she wanna taste some of that milkshake
Put 'cha money where ya ass at and run that
Just gettin' started, nigga; we done done that
What you know about them folks that was shootin' it off?
While y'all was lyin', runnin' and movin' ya moss
Homeboy, we ain't goin' for the okie dokie
'Cause we'll pop it off quick wit' the gun smoke
See what I tote? Keep it in my lap
If these hollow points hit 'cha, nigga, it's a wrap[Chorus x 2]Yeah, I ain't sta... don't die, nan nigga
Rich Boy, Alabama ex-figure
Stack quicker, drank good hard liquor
Fuck a squad, better have God wit 'cha
Cool like a muh'fucka wit' a pimp cup
All my folk gettin' money put 'cha rank up
Yeah, real deal playa, gon' ball out
Come drank what 'cha drank till ya fall out
Where my girls at, baby? Make 'em pay mo'
Gon' show a nigga how you make it shake slow
Yeah, represent; tell 'em who ya click
Throw 'em up, nigga; gon' show 'em who ya wit'[Chorus x 2]
Songwriters
JONES, JAMAL F. / RICHARDS, MARECE BENJAMIN / JONES, NIQUAYPublished by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.