Young Thug, Juice WRLD - Rich Nigga Shit Lyrics

Juicy (yo)
Nav-y
(Yo Pi'erre, wanna come out here?)
Ayy

Rich nigga shit, calamari
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)

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 on my cavities (yeah, uh-huh)
Havin' sex with your old lady, I lost calories (yeah, uh-huh)
Rich shit, I'm playin' Louis ping-pong with my bestie (yeah, 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 dawg a new kennel, it's a palace (grah, grah, grah)
I'm the fortune, and the winners wanna bash 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 realer, call Coachella, tell 'em comin' in Margiela
I don't like her, I can't sweat her, I just come and keep it mellow
I got ninety pills on me like I'm, Julius Peppers
Rolls-royce truck umbrella, goin' for my brother

Rich nigga shit, calamari
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)

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 pullin' 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, I made 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, calamari
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