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Rich Niggaz (f. Turk, Lil Wayne & Paparue)

Why, why, why

Why, why, why

Why, why

Cash Money, rich niggas

LookLoud pipes, big rims

Nigga, that's my life

When I pull up at the club sorry that's my night

I know a lot of haters probably sayin' that that's not right

Well, my diamonds so much bigger

So, that's my life

Bling Bling

Now, I only carry big faces and you hear the ching, ching

Now, you can ask your wife and she will say the same thin'

And your children be amazed when they see me on the big screen

Ha, ha, ha

I crack myself up

I know I talk lot but I can back myself up

Got a little house on the beach that's where I shack myself up

You ain't really got more money than me

Think about it

Let's just say somebody gave me a check and took the ink up out it

So I just bought a new Rollie and got to take a link up out it

And me with no ice is like a Prince concert that ain't crowded

They see the Beam, and the truck, and the B-12

And we was next

Then that's when I pull up in the B-E-L

Le-Le-LexI'm on fire

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot

We on fire

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hotJuvenile used to be R-T-A bound

Now I be bustin' these bitches head when I come 'round

Acting like a nigga that ain't never had shit

Look into my bed sayin' that's a mad hit

I'll damned if these diamonds and golds ain't shinin'

My Rollie ain't windin' my bank ain't climbin'

You lookin at a multi-millionaire in the flesh

Might don't have it now, but I just got me a check

I can walk it like I talk it, play it how I say it

Teach it like I preach it, now, put that in your head

Nigga, bet a thousand, shoot a thousand, ain't nuttin'

Smoke a pound, pop the Cristal and drink somethin'

Meet me in the casino, way in the back

Losin' money like a motherfucker, still shootin' craps

Tomorrow I'll be back, I got millionaire status

We make so much money IRS be lookin' at usI'm on fire

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot

We on fire

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hotI got more ends than Bunny have in a factory

I'm Lil Turk, I'm livin' large

Got the baddest hoes after me

Picture me, a young nigga ballin' out of control

Playing with millions, laying in condos

Nigga I shine, shine through the fuckin' week

The fliest ride with Cristal in the passenger seat

Don't hate me, cause I'm a little baller

Got more weight than Angola

Fucking your girl Carla

Nigga I stunt

And I'mma a stunt til I can't no more

Chest lit up like the oaks

From the diamonds I sport

Yo, I can't be touched

Don't think I'm too much, nigga I'm rich what the fuck

Rolex crushed out with the bezel

And in order for hoes to get close to me got to be on my schedule

I got so much money

I don't know what to do

Buy houses and cars

And break bread with my crewI'm on fire

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot

We on fire

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot

B.G. on fire

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hotIt's like, monkey see, monkey do

Rollin' with the Cash Money runners I stay true

Cause when were runnin' and climbin' on the million-dollar scene

Holding together, know what I mean, know what I mean

When I bring out the rubber around the Hummer

Don't nobody have a Benz or the Lex Bubble

When I start they said I had no fame

Now all the girls just end up calling my name

Ten G's to (?)

Fax the contract to big Cash Money

Cause you know this whole clique right with me

They're right with me

Sip-pe-di-dy

Won't count the diamonds just around my neck

X amount of dollars on a bankroll check

If you want to really come and sing with me

Those that got me wicked, then I do some free

For free

Songwriters

BYRON O. THOMAS, TERIUS GRAYPublished by

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