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Young Dolph - Rich Slave Album Lyrics



Young Dolph - Rich Slave Lyrics






Hold Up Hold Up Hold Up

(Ayy, yo, Bandplay)
Uh
Uh
Uh
(Let the band play) Uh

Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up (hold up)
We was down for so long, didn't have no choice but to go up (go up)
Pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up (pour up)
Spendin' racks in Neimans on my girl, watchin' her glow up (woo)
Rich nigga still in the neighborhood store eatin' cold cuts (yeah)
Street nigga, bitch, I'm in the Bentley doin' donuts (yeah)
Taught myself how to get millions, ain't nobody show us (it's Dolph)
Front my young nigga fifty 'bows, told him, "Lil' nigga, grow up" (it's Dolph)

Uncle Vic told me stay down with this shit 'til it blow up (I got you)
Smokin' on some shit you not, got Wock-Wock in my soda (dirty)
Used to sign for the packs, now I sign t-shirts and posters (it's Dolph)
Drop five hundred racks to drop the top on that new roadster (woo, uh)
Balenciaga the drip (it's Dolph)
First class, Dubai, take a trip (it's Dolph)
Spend a little bit, stack all the chips (stack it up)
I walk in Margiela and go crazy (woo)
Can't get money with me, you too lazy (uh-uh)
One thing I ain't never did was never ever ever let a bitch play me (hell nah, sorry)
I put it down in the city, now I'm up, nigga (hey, hey)
I used to eat a hundred P's just for lunch, nigga (woo)
I got f*ck niggas recruitin' other f*ck niggas
Hustle hard, ain't no such thing as luck, nigga

Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up (hold up)
We was down for so long, didn't have no choice but to go up (go up)
Pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up (pour up)
Spendin' racks in Neimans on my girl, watchin' her glow up (woo)
Rich nigga still in the neighborhood store eatin' cold cuts (yeah)
Street nigga, bitch, I'm in the Bentley doin' donuts (yeah)
Taught myself how to get millions, ain't nobody show us (it's Dolph)
Front my young nigga fifty 'bows, told him, "Lil' nigga, grow up" (it's Dolph)

Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up (hold up)
I just poured an eight of codeine in a Coca-Cola (raw)
I make it look too easy, I carry my whole hood on my shoulders (damn)
If money not in the equation, please do not approach us (swear to God)
Cut my day one nigga off because of jealousy (damn)
Everyday I'ma get fresh and pour up medicine (dirty)
Poured too much syrup by mistake because I'm heavy-handed
Bitch, I'm the plug best friend, you just a middleman (ayy, f*ck them niggas)
I don't f*ck with them niggas, I'm cut from a different cloth (yeah, yeah)
Ask your CEO and your rap friends why they hate Dolph (hah)
Rich nigga how I pop it on 'em (pop it)
The top come off, so I dropped it on 'em
Paid 30K over sticker price, I had to cop it on 'em (woo)

Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up (hold up)
We was down for so long, didn't have no choice but to go up (go up)
Pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up, pour up (pour up)
Spendin' racks in Neimans on my girl, watchin' her glow up (woo)
Rich nigga still in the neighborhood store eatin' cold cuts (yeah)
Street nigga, bitch, I'm in the Bentley doin' donuts (yeah)
Taught myself how to get millions, ain't nobody show us (it's Dolph)
Front my young nigga fifty 'bows, told him, "Lil' nigga, grow up" (it's Dolph)

Yeah
Ayy, I remember my mom and dad was livin' in a one room shack
Nowadays, I wake up in a mansion
Huh
I remember my mom and dad didn't even have a car
I don't wanna get started, but nowadays, man
Ayy, man, half of that shit out there in my driveway, I can't even spell that shit, man
On God
Huh
It's Dolph
(Paper Route Business)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING




Black Friday

They play it on every station, even the white folks' station
Them folks got mad, they got Dolph
Blowin' up, blowin' up in here
You said what now, Ronnie?
Every channel, man
I said I turned the radio on the other day, man, your song was on every station
Nigga had you on 9.57, that's the gospel channel
Man, you crazy, man
Google it, lil' Dolph, can you say hi?
Yeah, man, you lookin' like my daddy and shit, bro
You don't know my daddy, man
Nigga, nigga, man, I been knowin' your dad, nigga, before you, before, nigga
Nigga, you were, I been knowin' your dad
Nigga, you was in your dad's nutsack, nigga, when I met him, nigga
Haha
Haha
Me and your daddy kicked it, nigga
From the first, ayy, from the first to the twelfth, nigga
What you talkin' bout? (Ha)
Dolph, man, man, that's my partner, nigga (Hhaha)
We go way back, man, I'm talkin' 'bout the
How many niggas you know I still got from the '70s?
Man, I met that nigga in the, in '68, nigga
My best friend, long time friends, nigga
That's hard
I used to come up there
I used to come up to your grandmama's house and try to knock them girls off next door to y'all
Hahaha
Hahaha
He was helpin' me, I tried to knock them girls off
(So you, you and Dolph would go knock the girls off?)
Me and Dolph go way back, nigga
How many niggas you know got friends from the '60s, nigga?
Nah, nigga
With the Magnolia girls, nigga, Black Friday
You don't know nothin' 'bout that
Black Friday?
Yeah, ayy, Dolph, y'all stayin' safe down there?
Hell yeah, Ronnie, what the hell is the Black Friday?
Black Friday was when Martin Luther King got killed, nigga
Niggas couldn't go to school on Friday, called it Black Friday
Back in the day
Martin Luther King got killed, they said, "Man, Black Friday"
It was just in Memphis or it was everywhere?
In Memphis back in the day, man
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




To Be Honest

(What Juicy say? He be like, "Shut the f*ck up")
Okay, let's do it

Yeah, I'm blessed (yeah)
Came a long way from we was livin' in the 'jects (damn)
Told you I was a dawg, baby, when we first met (told you)
I'm nothin' like the rest, so what the f*ck did you expect?
To be honest, I don't care 'bout your opinion, where the check? (For real, though)

Where the check be?
I put her out and didn't call her 'til the next week (damn)
Your baby mama say your pussy ass a deadbeat (what?)
And I just spent three-fifty on a neck piece (yeah, yeah)
You know how I came in, so you know how I'm comin' (woo)
Retro number somethings with the Yves Saint Laurent (drippy)
Dolph, you be killin' it, man, the way you put that shit on (ayy)
Gold chain, gold glasses, primetime like Deion
Hah, you a square, you ain't never f*cked a bitch in a dope house (uh-uh)
Forty P's in the sofa, that's a dope couch (whoa)
I could never cross my niggas out for no amount (no)
Free all of my niggas 'til they out

Yeah, I'm blessed (yeah)
Came a long way from we was livin' in the 'jects (damn)
Told you I was a dawg, baby, when we first met (told you)
I'm nothin' like the rest, so what the f*ck did you expect?
To be honest, I don't care 'bout your opinion, where the check? (For real, though)
Uh, damn, uh, damn, uh, damn, uh, damn
To be honest, I don't care 'bout your opinion, where the check?
Yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy
To be honest, I don't care 'bout your opinions, where the check?

Huh, ayy
Remember what it feel like to not have shit (I swear)
Didn't even have no toilet tissue for when I took a shit (damn)
Now when I wake up, look in the mirror, I can't believe this (it's Dolph)
I got an eating habit like Cletus (Klump)
Whole lot of bread every season (big cake)
Smokin' weed and laughin' like I'm Beavis (heh-heh)
Pull up in the devil, I mean a Demon (skrrt)
Trigger finger itchin', just give me a reason (whoa)
Cutthroat, nigga, all my niggas greazy (hey)
Her titties big, then I suck 'em like I'm teethin' (yeah)
Still got the plug on the mid in Phoenix (ayy)

Yeah, I'm blessed
Came a long way from we was livin' in the 'jects (damn)
Told you I was a dawg, baby, when we first met (told you)
I'm nothin' like the rest, so what the f*ck did you expect?
To be honest, I don't care 'bout your opinion, where the check? (For real, though)
Uh, damn, uh, damn, uh, damn, uh, damn
To be honest, I don't care 'bout your opinion, where the check?
Yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy
To be honest, I don't care 'bout your opinions, where the check?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING




I See $s

Yeah, yeah (DJ Cyreen)
(Let the BandPlay)
PaperRoute Frank, ha

Didn't need a label came in with my own cake (okay)
Then I f*cked this rapper baby mama by mistake (damn)
Ever since then that big head motherf*cker been hatin' (haha)
How it feel to be a f*ck nigga, congratulations (how it feel, pussy)
Real niggas never change (never)
You know how the gang go (huh)
Crackin' seals and countin' M's (M)
What I wanna change for??
Richard Mille, diamonds dancin'
Bitch, look at the rainbow (shine)
Used to slam a hundred bags out that Durango (woo)
Twenty racks for this jacket and got a hundred on me (racks)
Don't make his own rules, he do what the f*ck he want, don't he? (Dig that)
I just gave a brand new Lambo to my lil' hommie (dig that)
VS in my ears no SI's, that's on God

She like how I shine (dig that)
He is not my kind (dig that)
Foreigns when we slide (dig that)
Ratchet but she fine (dig that)
I f*ck with her vibe (dig that)
I see dollar signs (dig that)

In a 488 'Rari three deep
Me and two bitches, 2 AM headed east
Smashed them both, drunk a four
And smoked three blunts before 3 (3 AM)
They don't belong to me, they belong to the streets (yeah, yeah)
Five Cuban links (bust down)
Why they call you Dolphin? You a dawg, nigga, beast
When Juice Wrld died I drunk a pint every day for a week (whoa)
When Doe B died, that shit was crazy I couldn't even sleep (whoa)
Rare breed in my DNA and it run deep (solid)
Got a meeting with my CPA, boy, I've been eating' (break the bank)
My diamonds alkaline water, not Aquafina (uh-huh)
These rocks tryna see who hit harder, like Ike and Tina
(Yeah, yeah, uh)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

She like how I shine (dig that)
He is not my kind (dig that)
Foreigns when we slide (dig that)
Ratchet but she fine (dig that)
I f*ck with her vibe (dig that)
I see dollar signs
I see dollar signs
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Corduroy Houseshoes Skit

What y'all was doin' in middle school?
What middle school you went to, Ron?
I went to, what middle school? Airways
Where my Daddy went to?
Went to Magnolia, Airways, then went to Hamilton
There wasn't no Cord back then?
Yeah, Cord, but we got busted, we got busted
When?
Where my Daddy go to?
Bust up
Oh, okay, okay
Huh?
My Daddy went to Airways too?
Yeah, your daddy went to Airways, nigga
Me and your dad went to school from the first to the twelfth together
Hell nah, man
Yup, first to twelfth
First grade to the twelfth grade, graduated in '70, 1977
What high school? What y'all was doin' in high school?
Man, man, pimpin'
Haha
Man, your man, your daddy used to have one-pockets on, nigga
You don't know 'bout no one-pocket
Your daddy used to wear a slack one-pocket, nigga, with house shoes, nigga
With a silk t-shirt and silk drawers
And a Apple hat, nigga, with the dollar drugs in it, nigga
Your daddy sold a lot of drugs, nigga
Nigga, you had a, you had a uncle, nigga, you had a uncle, nigga
Uncle Vic was the man, nigga, you crazy? (Haha)
This nigga had it back goin' on back in the day
He kept all tooted and booted
Haha
Your daddy used to wear one-pockets, nigga
If you had some one-pockets on, nigga, you, you had arrived, nigga
One-pocket zip pants with house shoes, corduroy house shoes?
Man, he was it
Hell nah
Man, your man, your dad was it, top dawg, nigga
Back in the day, pimp
Tellin' you, man, your dawg was it
Dolph had the 'do, nigga, this nigga Dolph had the 'do, nigga, haha
He had the what?
Your daddy had the 'do, nigga
Your daddy had the process, nigga
Your daddy went to the beauty shop to get his hair did, nigga
He had no curl, this nigga had, this nigga had the
He had the, the-the-the permanent, nigga, haha
You don't know nothin' 'bout that
Hell nah, bro
What you know about that?
Today's my boy birthday
I know it's his birthday, man, I wish I was down there, man
Yeah, he-he-he, he been, he been had his birthday I come and see him
I'm finna come and kick it with him for a minute then I gotta go to work
Man
My nigga's birthday today, yup
But let me, let me get through eatin' my cornflakes, man
I'ma holler at you a little later, Dolph
Good to talk to you, man
Alright, love you, Ron
Alright, love you too, Dolph
Alright
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thoronton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Whats Da Bizness

Twenties over there
Hundreds over there
Give all the tens and the fives to the kids, bruh
(Sosa 808 got this bitch knockin', nigga, ayy)
Hey

Grab the money machine, it's time to count these racks (yeah, yeah)
Your mama gave birth to a f*ckin' rat (yeah, yeah)
All this Gucci on me like I make this shit (damn)
Full blown millionaire, but still might take your shit (woo)
Send my lil' niggas through there and tell 'em erase your shit (all of 'em)
All I need is Franklins, f*ck a relationship (f*ck all that)
Designered down with that four-five on my hip (yeah)
Bust it down with the gang every time I make a flip (uh-huh)
This lifestyle kind of crazy, foreign cars daily (skrrt)
Workin', workin', workin', I been goin' hard lately
I got bitches on my payroll that got jobs, baby (yeah)
All the cars camouflaged, baby (for real, though)

What the business, bitch? (What's poppin'?)
What's the business, bitch? (What's happenin'?)
What's the business, bitch? (What's good?)
What's the business, bitch? (What up, though?)
What's the business, bitch? (What's poppin'?)
What's the business, bitch? (Say what?)
What's the business, bitch? (What's the word?)
What's the business, bitch? (Yeah, yeah)

What, what the lick read? (Yeah)
Baguette AP (yeah)
I bet it all on me (yeah)
I smell like Creed (yeah)
Mixed with good weed (yeah)
I bust my wrist down and put boogers in my ring (yeah, yeah)
Backend after backend, money ain't a thing (woo)
I laced my Air Max up and went and chased my dreams (run it up)
I bought a chain for every nigga on my team (for real, though)
You need a hundred, I call the plug and pull some strings (uh, yeah)
The plug, that's my homeboy, but I love him like my kinfolk (ayy)
Baby said she had a dream she f*cked me in my Benzo
She slim like SZA, but she got an ego like Lizzo (hah)
Memphis nigga smokin' San Francisco

What the business, bitch? (What's poppin'?)
What's the business, bitch? (What's happenin'?)
What's the business, bitch? (What's good?)
What's the business, bitch? (What up, though?)
What's the business, bitch? (What's poppin'?)
What's the business, bitch? (Say what?)
What's the business, bitch? (What's the word?)
What's the business, bitch?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING




The Land

Ayy
(JP turn me up)
(Sosa 808)
Yeah

Why the feds tryna build a case on me? (Damn)
Got a lot of pussy rappers hatin' on me (uh)
Lil' bad bitch off IG at the St. Regis waitin' on me (Gabbana)
I don't eat pork, but got a pocket full of bacon on me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, straight out the trenches shinin'
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, I walk in and change the climate (ice)
It's a cold world, make sure you keep your heat with you (for real, though)
Them same niggas that starved with you, let 'em eat with you (gang)
The police pulled me over for nothin', just because she racist (damn, man)
Two minutes later, it's five police cars, they got me face down on the pavement (goddamn, man)
Just 'cause I'm a black man in America (what about it?)
That's what give them permission to treat us terrible (hell nah)

They say this the land of the free (that's a lie)
It seem like the land of bullshit to me (yeah, yeah)
They say this the land of the free (uh-huh)
But it seem like the land of bullshit to me (uh)

Dior down to the socks, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Motherf*ckin' f*ck the cops, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I put big boy stones in my watch, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
In the drop ridin' with them chops, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
They too smart, too ambitious, too dangerous and vicious (yeah)
Every day I wake up, I make rich nigga decisions
The first person in my family to run up the millions (woo)
You ain't one hundred, ain't got no morals, then I don't want no dealings (uh-uh)
Stuffed six hundred racks in the bookbag, I can barely fit it (woo)
Stuffed six hundred racks in the bookbag and I could barely fit it (it's Dolph)
I keep pourin' lean to take away the pain, but I gotta quit it (it's Dolph)
I keep pourin' lean to take away the pain, I know I gotta quit it (uh-huh)

They say this the land of the free (that's a lie)
It seem like the land of bullshit to me (yeah, yeah)
They say this the land of the free (uh-huh)
But it seem like the land of bullshit to me (uh)

The police pulled me over for nothin', just because she racist
Two minutes later, it's five police cars, they got me face down on the pavement
Just 'cause I'm a black man in America
That's what give them permission to treat us terrible
They too smart, too ambitious, too dangerous and vicious
Every day I wake up, I make rich nigga decisions
The first person in my family to run up the millions
You ain't one hundred, ain't got no morals, then I don't want no dealings
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING




Death Row

(Let the BandPlay)
Six trucks, two drop tops, three coupes
Two four doors, three old schools
Hmm, and a whole lotta other shit I can't think of right now
'Cause I'm high as f*ck, PaperRoute Frank

Big boss, CEO, on that Suge shit (it's Dolph)
I smoked a kilo, back to back, on that Snoop shit (strong)
On that Dr. Dre shit, I'm still ruthless (woo)
Thug Life, out 'lone, on that Pac shit
Pull the trigger, let it sing, I'm on that clock shit (for real though)
I'm aimin' for your top, bitch (for real though)
Take them heels off before you jump up in this drop, bitch
She ask how much cost syrup in my cup, that's a lot bitch (uh)

Ain't no more purple so I'm drinkin' yellow snot bitch ('tussin)
Got some choppers, got a plug, then I got rich (for real though)
Cashed out on three Lamborghinis, just to pop shit (for real though)
I brought the millions to the circle, nigga, mob shit (ayy, ayy)
I pray to God my son don't get cursed for some shit I did (please)
I hit 'em in the chest and tell 'em that the world his
I put it all on the line, 'cause I'm a gambler, nigga (yeah, yeah)
Just bought my brother a motherf*ckin' Phantom, lil' nigga (yeah, yeah)
I kidnapped this bitch, she let her phone stay dead for three days (damn)
I just poured a eight of Wock' Wock' in a pitcher of Kool-Aid (woo)
My barber get a hundo every time I get a new fade
Blue Aventador, blue diamonds at the Blue Flame

Big boss, CEO, on that Suge shit (it's Dolph)
I smoked a kilo back to back, on that Snoop shit (strong)
On that Dr. Dre shit, I'm still ruthless (woo)
Thug Life, out 'lone, on that Pac shit
Pull the trigger, let it sing, I'm on that clock shit (for real though)
I'm aimin' for your top, bitch (for real though)
Take them heels off before you jump up in this drop, bitch
She ask how much cost syrup in my cup, that's a lot bitch (damn, this drink raw)

Pour it 'til it's dirty (dirty)
My Glock got a thirty (extendo)
Family know I'ma get this money, they ain't gotta worry (uh-uh)
Forgis when I'm swervin' (whoa)
Wock', Wock' when I'm thirsty (Wock', Wock')
I'ma count paper when the birds start chirpin' (trap)
Ten karats solitaires, got my ears hurtin' (rocks)
I could never ever chase a bitch, it's not worth it
The realest motherf*cka I know is me but I ain't perfect
Roll past my ex bitch house flexin' on purpose (haha)
You look good but your baby daddy broke, bitch (yeah, yeah)
In the trap they love me like the pope, bitch (yeah, yeah)
Might as well go hang yourself with a rope, bitch (yeah)
They call me Dr. G.O.A.T., bitch

Big boss, CEO, on that Suge shit (it's Dolph)
I smoked a kilo back to back, on that Snoop shit (strong)
On that Dr. Dre shit, I'm still ruthless (woo)
Thug Life, out 'lone, on that Pac shit
Pull the trigger, let it sing, I'm on that clock shit (for real though)
I'm aimin' for your top, bitch (for real though)
Take them heels off before you jump up in this drop, bitch
She ask how much cost syrup in my cup, that's a lot bitch (that's a lot bitch)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Cray Cray

Uh (Band-)
Ayy
(Let the band play, ayy)
Yeah, yeah (Ayy, ayy, ayy), yeah

Keep a yop, can't trust nobody (Nobody)
Got young niggas beggin' me just to let them catch a body (Hold up)
Got paid in South Memphis, cashed out, yeah, that's my private island (Gilligan)
I stay on a plane so much, they don't know if I'm a passenger or the pilot (Goddamn)
She so f*ckin' thick, she always talkin' 'bout goin' on a diet (You trippin')
Don't matter whatever she put on, all that ass, she can't hide it (Woo)
I had to ask her, "Did you get that from your mama or did you buy it?" (Damn)
And these niggas be actin' like hoes with all that bitchin' and all that cryin' (Bitch-ass nigga)
Money blue, diamonds too, ain't no rules, nigga (Uh)
I went swimmin' and lost a Rolex in the pool, nigga (Uh)
Fell asleep on one bitch and woke up with two, nigga (What?)
If you was livin' like this, shit, what would you do, nigga?

I can show you how to get paid eight ways (Okay)
Hustled so hard, I ain't had no sleep in eight days (Damn)
I only ride with carbon or his brother AK (Ayy, who that?)
She got some fire pussy, but the bitch is cray-cray
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
She got some fire pussy, but the bitch is cray-cray
Hah, damn (Uh), damn (Uh), what you do?
I knew she was a freak, so I recorded the bitch like Ray J (Hah)

I f*cked two times, she invited me over the third day (Ah)
If I can recall, I think it was a Thursday (Yup)
She told me, "You not 'bout to get up and leave me like that, you gotta stay" (What?)
That's when I said to myself, "Yup, this lil' bitch right here cray" (For real)
Talkin' 'bout, "Don't do it like that" (Uh), you need to go to church and pray (For real)
Go ask my teachers about me, I didn't even go out for recess to play (For real)
I might go jump in my jewelry box and go ice skate (Woo)
Got a couple of niggas, do anything for 'em, I'll go out out of my way (For real)
Got a couple of bitches I'll tell anything just to keep 'em up out of my face (Hah)
F*ckin' on lil' mama, I didn't even know her name, I just called her bae (Where you at, bae?)
Lil' bad bitch with good pussy, but she cray (Hah)
Rude black-ass motherf*cker, but I'm paid

I can show you how to get paid eight ways (Okay)
Hustled so hard, I ain't had no sleep in eight days (Damn)
I only ride with carbon or his brother AK (Ayy, who that?)
She got some fire pussy, but the bitch is cray-cray
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
She got some fire pussy, but the bitch is cray-cray
Hah, damn (Uh), damn (Uh), what you do?
I knew she was a freak, so I recorded the bitch like Ray J (Hah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




RNB

(Play me some pimpin', man)
Baby
Baby, baby, baby
Oh, baby (baby)
Uh-huh
Yeah, yeah, it's Dolph
(What Juicy say? He be like, "Shut the f*ck up")
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Drive my Lambo like a Chevy on some rich nigga shit (skrrt)
You can't talk to my girl, she a rich nigga bitch
Told the teacher I was gon' be on the rich nigga list (told you)
Black ass nigga, quarter mil' on his wrist (hey)
Black ass nigga with a bad ass bitch (uh)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (uh)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (for real, though)
I went all the way through hell and back to get to this (yeah)

Ten toes, stayed down (yeah), real hustlin' (yeah)
Cut a couple niggas' water off, but still love 'em (f*ck 'em)
Young nigga, big heart (big), big nuts (big)
G-Wagen or the double-R, which truck?
Ball hard for the days when I didn't have it (ayy)
She bad as a motherf*cker, but she still ratchet (ayy)
Started in South Memphis, ended up in a mansion (ayy)
Ain't no stylist needed here, crazy with the fashion (uh-huh)
I'm just poppin' my shit, nah, I ain't braggin' (yeah, yeah)
Pickin' up bags all in Paris (yeah, yeah)
Flood my neck out with some carats (uh)
My young niggas the neighborhood terrorists

Drive my Lambo like a Chevy on some rich nigga shit (skrrt)
You can't talk to my girl, she a rich nigga bitch
Told the teacher I was gon' be on the rich nigga list (told you)
Black ass nigga, quarter mil' on his wrist (hey)
Black ass nigga with a bad ass bitch (uh)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (uh)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (for real, though, yeah)
I went all the way through hell and back to get to this (yeah)

Please don't wish me well if you used to give me hell
Niggas spend they last to fake it when it's free to be real, huh
Please don't come and tell me 'bout no story that you heard
This is not Sesame Street, I do not kick it with no birds, ah
Brown skin bitch in a black Lamb' swervin' (black Lamb' swervin')
I just blew a bag on all-black Birkin (on an all-black Birkin)
I think that I might be way too real of a bitch (way too real of a bitch)
Ayy, he told me watch my mouth, I told him, "Nigga, watch your kids," huh
This that rich bitch pussy, if it ain't, then he ain't lookin' (he ain't lookin')
You can't take my nigga from me with your cleanin' or your cookin' (or your cookin', bitch)
Drive my Phantom through the hood on some rich nigga shit, ayy (skrrt)
You can't f*ck my nigga 'cause he with a rich bitch (ah)

Drive my Lambo like a Chevy on some rich nigga shit (skrrt)
You can't talk to my girl, she a rich nigga bitch
Told the teacher I was gon' be on the rich nigga list (told you)
Black ass nigga, quarter mil' on his wrist (hey)
Black ass nigga with a bad ass bitch (uh)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (uh)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (for real, though)
I went all the way through hell and back to get to this (yeah)

I went got the bag and now everything lit (the bag)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (bag)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (the bag)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (woo)
Shit, rocks around my neck, they match the ones that's on my 'fit (damn)
Seen a girl from high school in traffic, blew her a kiss (what up?)
Too rich for a broke bitch, baby, nah, we don't mix
I got bad bitches comin' by the twos like a Twix

Drive my Lambo like a Chevy on some rich nigga shit (skrrt)
You can't talk to my girl, she a rich nigga bitch
Told the teacher I was gon' be on the rich nigga list (told you)
Black ass nigga, quarter mil' on his wrist (hey)
Black ass nigga with a bad ass bitch (uh)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (uh)
I went got the bag and now everything lit (for real, though)
I went all the way through hell and back to get to this (yeah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Jordan Michael Houston, Megan Pete, Willie Hutch
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING




Rich Slave

(Drumma Boy)
All them diamond chains, he look like a rich slave
All them diamond chains, he look like a rich slave
Yeah, yeah
Uh

Ayy, Chuck Taylors on and a whole lot of ice (ayy)
Just to get right, had to gamble with my life (ayy)
While you was thinkin' twice, I already rolled the dice (trap)
Weighin' bags, runnin' in and out all night (trap)
Sing to your bitch like I'm Brian McKnight (woo)
Smokin' on some 41, call it Glen Rice (Gelato)
Ten cars outside and all my shit tight (skrrt)
Trap nigga, but I f*ck my bitch to Barry White (uh)

Told my hitman put him on the hitlist (yeah)
Tat my neighborhood on me 'cause it made me rich (hah)
Made more money in my hood than Money Makin' Mitch (it's Dolph)
Stand ten toes down, nigga, don't flinch (uh-uh)
Nah, don't switch (never), Dolph, you the shit (thank you)
I was drinkin' lean back when Puff was drinkin' Cris' (raw)
Jumped in this rap shit and I hit a lick (damn)
When I die, split the M's, give 'em to my kids
All blue diamonds, I don't look like them (it's Dolph)
Blueberry Dolph what they call me nowadays (hah)
Used to sell a whole lot of bags around the way (trap)
Bury me in an AP in my grave (yeah)
All them diamond chains, he look like a rich slave (what?)
All them diamond chains, he look like a rich slave
Came out my mama, doctor smacked my ass
I ain't start cryin', looked at him, said, "Nigga, get paid" (yeah, yeah)
Hah, yeah, I hate fame, but everybody know my name (yeah)
Hate come with money and they both come with the game (yeah)
Everybody love me now, this shit seem strange (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
All them diamond chains, he look like a rich slave (uh)
All them diamond chains, he look like a rich slave (uh)
All them diamond chains, he look like a rich slave

Ayy, Chuck Taylors on and a whole lot of ice (ayy)
Just to get right, had to gamble with my life (ayy)
While you was thinkin' twice, I already rolled the dice (trap)
Weighin' bags, runnin' in and out all night (trap)
Sing to your bitch like I'm Brian McKnight (woo)
Smokin' on some 41, call it Glen Rice (Gelato)
Ten cars outside and all my shit tight (skrrt)
Trap nigga, but I f*ck my bitch to Barry White (uh)

Big Tre-Tre
What's up, Ari?
Paper Route Business
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Christopher Gholson
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING




Until It Rot

Get what I got 'cause I hustle nonstop
And I'ma keep stackin' this shit 'til all of this shit rot (Let the BandPlay)
And I'ma keep stackin' this shit 'til all of this shit rot
I'ma keep stackin' this shit 'til all of this shit rot, ayy

Uno, dos, tres, four, five, six, seven (uh)
I was once told real gangsters go to Heaven (for real, though)
Eight (eight), nine (nine), ten (ten), eleven (guess what?)
I spent ninety racks on an old-ass Chevy (haa)
Call me Bumpy Johnson, I got hit up and kept on steppin' (uh)
Lucky Luciano where I'm from, I make shit happen (it's Dolph)
Pull up foreign snatchin' (skrrt), I got a thing for fashion (drip)
I told her let's go to dinner, go get dressed and keep it classy (woo)
Under investigation, too many problems, too much ballin' (damn)
I took seven million and buried it out there by the water (yeah, yeah)
Mob meeting, I'm smokin' kush and drinkin' coffee (yeah, yeah)
Once you cross me, I might whack you, so don't call me (yeah, yeah)
She bad, so I bent her over like a doggy (woo)
I cut him off because he worthless, now he salty (uh-huh)
I got a thing for bad bitches when they bossy (I like that)
Hustle 'til I'm dead, I'll get some sleep in the coffin

I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot
I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot
Until all this shit rot, until all this shit rot
Until all this shit rot, until all this shit rot
I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot
I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot
I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot
I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot (uh-huh)

Yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah)
Lately I been hearin' a lot of voices in my head (damn)
Damn (damn), damn (damn), damn (damn), damn (shit)
It woke me straight up and said, "Go buy a Lamb'" (damn)
You ain't shit if your son don't wanna be just like his daddy (damn)
Twenty racks, bust down, Cartier glasses (damn)
You got bitch habits, I got money habits (damn)
I tried to spare that pussy, f*ck 'em, let him have it (dump)
I only f*ck with my kind, yup, I'm selfish (solid)
I can't kick it with a f*ck nigga, you a peasant (damn)
Ridin' around in my double-izzar with my FN (my FN)
Somethin' very icy always on my left hand

I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot (ha)
I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot (ayy)
Until all this shit rot, until all this shit rot (yeah)
Until all this shit rot (yeah, yeah), until all this shit rot (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot
I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot (it's Dolph)
I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot
I'ma keep stackin' this shit until all this shit rot (uh-huh)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING




Blue Diamonds

(Sosa 808)
Know I'ma forever pop it how I wanna pop it
However I want
Whenever I want
Yeah

A quarter million 'round my neck, hotboxing in a Lamborghini truck, yeah
Bust down that Richie Mille, put blue diamonds in it, I don't give a f*ck, yeah
Two hundred bags in one neighborhood in four houses, that's us, yeah
I had a check before I had a check, before they even knew who I was, yeah
She my bitch, so she got a lot of bags and drive a G63 (damn)
Smoked a blunt, made a mistake, went on an 80K shopping spree (damn)
Fur coats in the winter time, you know it's drop-tops in the spring
Uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh (yeah, yeah)

Bad bitch, pretty girl, whatever you wanna call her, but she with the shit (damn)
Entrepreneur, the rich niggas, dope boys her type, yeah, she love this (damn)
Talk shit, swallow spit, she grab the dick, then do a magic trick (woo)
Everybody and they daddy want the bitch, but everybody ain't had the bitch (hey)
Street nigga, trapper, whatever you wanna call the boy
But he be the real one, though (It's Dolph)
He came from the bottom, up under the bottom
But nowadays the boy living, though (It's Dolph)
Rolls-royces on top of Rolls-Royces (double-R)
Bad bitches screenshot my portraits
Ain't that many real niggas left, it's a shortage (uh-uh), uh
Rich nigga hotbox, sitting in a Lambo'
Organized crime boss like I'm Soprano
Bust down eight figures with my famo (Bust it down)
Pulled up on her in a camo ('Rari)
Goyard bag filled up to the top (yeah, yeah)
That pussy so good, I woke up the next morning and bought her a watch (hah)
Uh

A quarter million 'round my neck, hotboxing in a Lamborghini truck, yeah
Bust down that Richie Mille, put blue diamonds in it, I don't give a f*ck, yeah
Two hundred bags in one neighborhood in four houses, that's us, yeah
I had a check before I had a check, before they even knew who I was, yeah
She my bitch, so she got a lot of bags and drive a G63 (damn)
Smoked a blunt, made a mistake, went on an 80K shopping spree (damn)
Fur coats in the winter time, you know it's drop-tops in the spring
Uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh (hold up, hold up)

Dolph, why you go and spend that two-fifty on the blue Richard Mille? (what you mean?)
You f*cking up the value of the watch, kid, what you doing? Get for real (hah)
Stay out my business, player, I don't never plan on selling it, for real (uh-uh)
Boy, that little shit there ain't nothing (uh-uh)
F*ck it, just go buy another one (F*ck it)
Ridin' Chevelle with a motor out a 'Vette (skrrt)
She ain't got no panties under that dress (woo)
F*ck the shit out her 'til I broke out a sweat (woo)
Flipped her over five times, she soaking wet (woo)
Then she told me that she got a request (what?)
Thumb in her booty now, hand 'round her neck (hah)
She f*ckin' a rich nigga, she like to flex (yeah)
Hands down, lil' baby, yeah, she the best (uh-huh)
Yeah, this that new Louis V (yeah)
Buyin' APs by twos and threes (yeah)
I built my life off of Ps (yeah)
Stupid-ass lil' bitch, you know I can't f*ck with you, bitch, please (nah)
Stupid-ass lil' boy, you can't compare yourself to me, nigga, please (hah, yeah)

A quarter million 'round my neck, hotboxing in a Lamborghini truck, yeah
Bust down that Richie Mille, put blue diamonds in it, I don't give a f*ck, yeah
Two hundred bags in one neighborhood in four houses, that's us, yeah
I had a check before I had a check, before they even knew who I was, yeah
She my bitch, so she got a lot of bags and drive a G63 (damn)
Smoked a blunt, made a mistake, went on an 80K shopping spree (damn)
Fur coats in the winter time, you know it's drop-tops in the spring
Uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh (Sosa, man, this beat crazy)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton, Brandon Parker
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, EMPIRE PUBLISHING




No Sense

Yeah, yeah (Supah Mario)
(That boy Cassius) Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Hey (Hey, that boy Cassius)
That stiff dawg, shit, nigga, uh

Skinny-ass nigga in some big Balenciagas
My girl was mad at me so I took the bitch shoppin'
Drinkin' champagne, spend the racks all in Prada
Everybody know that he a big shit popper
Smokin' ice cream, rollin' on some peach cobbler
Hitters on the payroll and a couple doctors
Why the f*ck you think I pour up all of this Wockhardt?
Hit the alarm on the 'Rari and it go (brrt, brrt)
Park the 'Rari, jump in the Challenger (skrrt, skrrt)
Feds watchin' me so I scramble 'em (shake 'em up)
Had your bitch at the room, but I had to put out
She too freaky, nah, I couldn't handle her (damn)
My young niggas walk around with chandeliers (damn)
Yeah, chandelier the shit Khaled talkin' 'bout (damn)
Dolph hit the club, then the bitches comin' out (damn)
I heard the opps in the club, nigga, point 'em out (bitch)
Nigga, stop all that hidin' and runnin' 'round (rrah)
I make your broke-ass brother gun you down (rrah)
Damn, you too thick, girl, turn around (rrah)
Lemme smack it one time and see how it sound
Millionaire but I make my boy lay you down
They don't give a f*ck, they don't play around
Somebody text me, so I look down
My bitch waitin' on me in a Gabbana gown (Gabbana gown)

Yeah, bitch, I still wear Gucci
I'm chillin' with a groupie, beatin' up her coochie (beat it up)
Uh, Glizock, my life a movie (Glizock)
Guess who shoot it? Your bitch, I do's it (I do)
Uh, ballin' real hard, no recruiting, yuh (on God)
Paper Route winnin', never losin', uh (gang)
Before I drop the top, I been ruthless, yuh
Give it to 'em raw like sushi, uh (raw)
Yuh (yuh), yuh, still goin' dumb (dumb), uh
Mr. Glock, the baguette don, yeah (baguette)
Exotic smoke in my lungs, ooh (yeah, yeah)
I really came out of them slums (out 'em)
I'm finna buy me a house with a pond (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, and I put this shit on my moms, yeah (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I think I was born with a gun (yeah, yeah)
I'm a son of a gun, uh (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, you know where I'm from, yeah (bitch, uh)
South Memphis, filled up with villains and gremlins
Lil' niggas with extensions on guns (thirties), yeah
Don't play with the kid, you know how I get (you know it)
I get that shit done (done), uh
Maybach on my wrist, this young nigga lit (lit)
And a Porsche on my guns (woo), duh (duh)

This shit don't make no sense (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
This shit don't make no sense (no sense)
This shit don't make no sense (no sense)
Shit don't make no sense (make no sense)
Shit don't make no sense (no sense)
Yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph R. Thornton, Jonathan Priester, Joshua Cross, Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes




Benz

(Sosa 808 got this bitch knockin', nigga, ayy)

I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz (skrrt)

Pull up, AMG, Balenciagas on my feet (big motherf*ckers)
I feel like God blessed me every time that I sneeze (bless you)
Trap nigga, but today I'm eatin' Japanese (Beni')
Somewhere chasin' a big bag of money where I be's (count 'em)
Blue racks, blue racks, that's all that I see (stacks)
Skip school just to go sell P's and kick it with the G's (ayy)
Ridin' dirty out in traffic, watch me bob and weave (watch out)
She got mad at her boyfriend and let me f*ck up her weave
Huh, ha, bitch, please (bitch, please)
Left wrist plus right wrist below eighty degrees (froze), huh
Yeah, I need some skis (you stupid, bruh)
You can't name another nigga cold as me (for real)

I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz

Countin' all this paper got my fingers hurtin' (gimme that rubber band)
Take a Perky (take a Perky), pour a dirty (dirty-dirty)
She thick as f*ck, I call the girl "Beef Jerky" (beef jerky)
Clown-ass nigga belong in the circus (goddamn)
Eighty racks on me, drive-through at Church's (gimme a two piece)
Them bullshit diamonds, your jewelry box worthless (get the f*ck outta here)
Camo outside, inside Hermes (yeah, yeah)
Was in the trap thinkin' practice make perfect, ayy
Talk shit like Cassius Clay (damn), ayy
Came up off chronic just like Dr. Dre, huh, ayy (ayy)
The only thing I did was hustle and pray, ayy (ayy)
Mannie Fresh was my Jam Master Jay (yeah)

I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
I just hopped up out that Benz, I just hopped up out that Benz
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING




1 Scale

(Let the BandPlay)
Yeah

All I need is one scale, a couple bales, came in this shit by myself
Dolph, why you f*ck his girl? Uh, shit, 'cause I'm a player
Quarterback, no NFL (ayy), drippy in Chanel (drippy)
Playin' hide and go seek in the mansion with my lil' girl (Aria)
Elevator was too crowded, so I took the stairs (woo)
The whole industry was hatin', so now I give 'em hell (ha)
Business man, I invest a whole million in the mail (yeah)
Yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah), yeah
I-I-I treat bitches like some shoes, I cop 'em by the pairs (it's Dolph)
She like when I grab her neck and pull her by her hair (it's Dolph)
In my city, I'm more important than the f*ckin' mayor (it's Dolph)
Ten years straight, I set the prices on the kush, I swear (it's Dolph)
I got your bitch lookin' for Flipper (where he at?)
I let her ride like a bicycle (ah)
I pulled out and bust on her dimples (ah)
Quarter milli' for this Richard (Mille)
I had to run up them digits (run it up)
Niggas know that I'm the sickest (for real)
Bitches know that I'm the littest
Whip my dick out and piss on your feelings (for real)
I heard that lil' nigga from Memphis (okay)
I heard he used to trap in Fendi (okay)
I heard he went to jail in a Bentley (okay)
Straps with me in New York City (uh)
Lil' black nigga with all this f*ckin' paper on me, man
What the f*ck they mean, man?
I can't go out like that (uh), huh, hold up

Bangin' L's, swangin' scales (what?)
Shakin', got residue in my nails (what?)
Started gettin' real money, we bustin' bales
Everybody on the floor know the smell, uh
Dropped out of high school
Had to start bringin' my Glock, couldn't show and tell, uh (pussy)
Big bro got life in the feds
Can't talk on the phone, but he know it's well
Walked out the trap with a big ol' bag
'Til I pop in the house, I was on a seal (swerve)
We was sinnin' on Sunday, that bitch in my hand
But I'm sinnin' in my head, know I'm gon' prevail, uh
If I call her house phone, tell her bring that bitch out cocked, then my mama will (come on)
I was eighteen, my OG seen me hop out the Benz or a Bonneville (bah)
I bought a mansion, pop in that bitch fresh off a shootout, I'm hot as hell
Shh, you gon' do some time, niggas probably tell
F*ck it, this the lifestyle, know I probably will
I'm in New York with my nigga Dolph, he rockin' wop, but his neck on Gabbana still (uh)
I'm rockin' Christian Dior with a bag full of blues (uh), all black but it's Prada still (swerve)
I'm in the 'Raq, Benihana, don't eat at Hamada
See opp, he get probably killed (swerve)
Told lil' bro come out with me in Bali
Get out the 'Raq, he might come near, catch a body still (shh)
I'll pull up on your home in a Lamb' smokin' out the sack
Arch her back, disappear, artifact (skrrt)
I ain't comin' with shit but my pipe and a box of Mags
Twenty on me, that's my starter pack
Gettin' too much money, we ain't tryna make arch-rivals
You know we spark rides (bah)
I was outside and that's the reason we won battles
Nigga, we weren't part-time
Got a youngin, he only send straight at you (seen 'em)
You ain't never heard that snake rap? (Go get 'em)
On a nigga head, then we just can't catch you
Spin twice, mad as f*ck, we went straight past you
Ever tried to kill a nigga just 'cause you had to?
Meetin' up in the clubhouse like Rascals (huh?)
Everybody rich as f*ck, ain't nothin' past due
I could go grab a M from my mama pad too
Let me see what you gon' do, we could team-tag two
Oh, you ain't with the shit, have somebody blast you
Kel-Tec on my lap, if God bless you, I tag you
Have you fillin' the bag with your fast food (pussy)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Herbert Wright
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, EMPIRE PUBLISHING




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