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Louie Coat Video (MV)




Performed By: Rich the Kid
Featuring: Chief Keef
Language: English
Length: 2:59
Written by: Dimitri Roger, Keith Cozart




Rich the Kid - Louie Coat Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Chief Keef ]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (M-M-M-Murda)

F*ck a bitch with my mask on
I ain't broke, I got racks on
And the pussy with wack send her back home
Tell my bitch, "Don't hit me on the trap phone" (what?)
Put a bitch in a jet or a big old boat
Want a bag for the pussy? Then it must be dope
Airport with a gun, I forgot I tote
Why I spent seven racks on a Louis coat?

She said the pussy is power
Gimme head when I'm fresh out the shower
Bitch f*ck me for an hour
Your bitch smell like clam chowder
I'm in the club with the firepower
I took his lil' bitch, now he super sour
Young nigga ball like Dwight Howard
Young nigga high like a real tower
Hold on, hold on, hold on, pop a Molly, I sweat
I'ma f*ck my lil' bitch on a big old jet
I ain't did no show, I need a big old check
Back to the trenches we go, for sure, my plug got 'za for the low
I ain't even tryna rap no more, niggas fake, where the real ones go?
We used to trap at the hotel, motel, now we sell albums for retail
I could be selling the fish scale
Check in my bio for details
Niggas livin' for the clout, I get it, he'll die to be on Akademiks
Gettin' money like I motherf*ckin' print it, in the Maybach, can't see in it
Roll out the red carpet when I'm walkin'
Baby mama broke, just stalkin'
This is my real life, ain't just talkin'
I put a half a milli' in a coffin
'Cause I sleep with the money, I'ma die with the money
Always laughin', but ain't shit funny
Big old bankroll, ain't no choice

F*ck a bitch with my mask on
I ain't broke, I got racks on
And the pussy with wack send her back home
Tell my bitch, "Don't hit me on the trap phone" (what?)
Put a bitch in a jet or a big old boat
Want a bag for the pussy? Then it must be dope
Airport with a gun, I forgot I tote
Why I spent seven racks on a Louis coat?

Eighteen wheeler I'm gettin' my mack on
Told that bitch to bring that ass so it could come get smacked on
Granny hated my dogs and she was mad I was bringin' that cat home
Chief Sosa be standin' up straight just like a backbone
You old, lil' ass nigga, your breath still got Similac on
Ask my brothers, on my brothers, bitch, I been the backbone
Bitch, tryna call me like tryna call a saxophone
F*ck I look like, an intern? Chief So' don't answer phone
She like, "Big Head, you just actin' funny 'cause your bread got long"
Bitch, I'm on the phone with Elon 'bout a Tesla mega dome
These hoes know that I got mega-cock so I get mega-dome
She was tryna suck my peepee ever since my dreads got long
House so big, a nigga gotta talk through the megaphone

Brr, yo
(Yo) Yo
Ayy, Tadoe, Tadoe
Tadoe be like, Tadoe be like

Ridin' through the hundreds, the slums with the drums
We ain't barbecuin', but she at my door with buns
Boy, you look twelve yo' ass is snitchin', boy, you're done
Why the f*ck the SWAT team at the door about some guns?
If you want a rack, just keep a sticky on the run
Keep a stick, it's 'cause when shit get sticky, you can't run
If them blowin' whites get behind you, nigga, better run
Money got me doin' some shit that I never done (bang)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (M-M-M-Murda)

F*ck a bitch with my mask on
I ain't broke, I got racks on
And the pussy with wack send her back home
Tell my bitch, "Don't hit me on the trap phone" (what?)
Put a bitch in a jet or a big old boat
Want a bag for the pussy? Then it must be dope
Airport with a gun, I forgot I tote
Why I spent seven racks on a Louis coat?

She said the pussy is power
Gimme head when I'm fresh out the shower
Bitch f*ck me for an hour
Your bitch smell like clam chowder
I'm in the club with the firepower
I took his lil' bitch, now he super sour
Young nigga ball like Dwight Howard
Young nigga high like a real tower
Hold on, hold on, hold on, pop a Molly, I sweat
I'ma f*ck my lil' bitch on a big old jet
I ain't did no show, I need a big old check
Back to the trenches we go, for sure, my plug got 'za for the low
I ain't even tryna rap no more, niggas fake, where the real ones go?
We used to trap at the hotel, motel, now we sell albums for retail
I could be selling the fish scale
Check in my bio for details
Niggas livin' for the clout, I get it, he'll die to be on Akademiks
Gettin' money like I motherf*ckin' print it, in the Maybach, can't see in it
Roll out the red carpet when I'm walkin'
Baby mama broke, just stalkin'
This is my real life, ain't just talkin'
I put a half a milli' in a coffin
'Cause I sleep with the money, I'ma die with the money
Always laughin', but ain't shit funny
Big old bankroll, ain't no choice

F*ck a bitch with my mask on
I ain't broke, I got racks on
And the pussy with wack send her back home
Tell my bitch, "Don't hit me on the trap phone" (what?)
Put a bitch in a jet or a big old boat
Want a bag for the pussy? Then it must be dope
Airport with a gun, I forgot I tote
Why I spent seven racks on a Louis coat?

Eighteen wheeler I'm gettin' my mack on
Told that bitch to bring that ass so it could come get smacked on
Granny hated my dogs and she was mad I was bringin' that cat home
Chief Sosa be standin' up straight just like a backbone
You old, lil' ass nigga, your breath still got Similac on
Ask my brothers, on my brothers, bitch, I been the backbone
Bitch, tryna call me like tryna call a saxophone
F*ck I look like, an intern? Chief So' don't answer phone
She like, "Big Head, you just actin' funny 'cause your bread got long"
Bitch, I'm on the phone with Elon 'bout a Tesla mega dome
These hoes know that I got mega-cock so I get mega-dome
She was tryna suck my peepee ever since my dreads got long
House so big, a nigga gotta talk through the megaphone

Brr, yo
(Yo) Yo
Ayy, Tadoe, Tadoe
Tadoe be like, Tadoe be like

Ridin' through the hundreds, the slums with the drums
We ain't barbecuin', but she at my door with buns
Boy, you look twelve yo' ass is snitchin', boy, you're done
Why the f*ck the SWAT team at the door about some guns?
If you want a rack, just keep a sticky on the run
Keep a stick, it's 'cause when shit get sticky, you can't run
If them blowin' whites get behind you, nigga, better run
Money got me doin' some shit that I never done (bang)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Dimitri Roger, Keith Cozart
Copyright: Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing

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