Rich the Kid, YG - Mo Paper Lyrics

Yeah
You know what I'm sayin'?
Can't never switch
Huh
Ooh, ooh, ayy, ayy, huh

You ain't a boss, you can't touch her (huh)
I might just paint the Bentley mustard (skrr)
I got rich, that's on my mother (yeah)
Say she love you, still can't trust her (what, yeah, yeah)
Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it (skrrt)
But my frames, they Dior, I can't see, baby (I can't see, baby)
Why your boyfriend a lame? I got mo' paper (I got mo' paper)
Bring the money out, now I got mo' haters

Where my stash box? (Stacks)
Bring the racks out (racks)
Watch your bad bop (bad)
I blew that cash out (cash, what)
Yuh, ayy, ran my money up now I got mo' haters (I got mo' paper)
Bitches wanna fuck 'cause I got mo' papers
Now I Speed Race, I want more face
My bitch bake the cake, I might slide the Wraith
Hermès links, check the sinks
Chanel when she blink, she want that 'Rari pink (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)

You ain't a boss, you can't touch her (touch her, huh)
I might just paint the Bentley mustard (skrr)
I got rich, that's on my mother (yeah)
Say she love you, still can't trust her (what, yeah, yeah)
Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it (skrrt)
But my frames, they Dior, I can't see, baby (I can't see, baby)
Why your boyfriend a lame? I got mo' paper
Bring the money out, now I got mo' haters

I need the bag fast, fast, fast, fast (fast)
Pulled up, Lambo, niggas mad, mad, mad, mad (niggas mad)
Saint Laurent, hard bottoms, splash, splash, splash (splash)
You might slip on a drip, you might need the cash
I painted my 6-4 red, a lot of my homies dead
Some of my homies Blue, a lot of my homies Red
On Bloods, I need that head, I'm tryna feel it in my legs
I'm tryna spend a little bread, fuck it up at Saks, yeah
All my bitches drive Benz, I'll put you in a Benz (I'll put you in a Benz)
All my hoes conniving, they finesse them M's (finesse them M's)
Seen that nigga slide in, oh yeah, yeah she did (oh yeah, yeah she did)
Before you fuck me, give that pussy a cleanse, yeah

You ain't a boss, you can't touch her (huh)
I might just paint the Bentley mustard (skrr)
I got rich, that's on my mother (yeah)
Say she love you, still can't trust her (what, yeah, yeah)
Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it (skrrt)
But my frames, they Dior, I can't see, baby (I can't see, baby)
Why your boyfriend a lame? I got mo' paper
Bring the money out, now I got mo' haters