Mulatto - Pretty Ricky lyrics
[Mulatto - Pretty Ricky lyrics]
(David, wake up)
Yeah
(Latto, let 'em know...)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P (Real freak)
Pretty Ricky, he gotta pleasure the P
(Real freak)
Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P
Pleasure the P, he gotta pleasure the P
Light this bitch up like a candle
I got them big toys like Santa
Bitches ain't hard
They just turn on up camera
He love my grammar, I'm from Atlanta
So I don't want to hear R&B, fuck me to trap
Street smart and book smart
You know all them niggas love that
(All them niggas love that)
I can't walk through no metal detector
Niggas rats, talking to the detective
Niggas fold every time under pressure
Fuck a label, I'm my own investor
Hundred thou', stuff it right in the dresser
Pocket full of blues, bitch, I need extra
Left that nigga, he'll never do better
Tell him when to shoot like a director
Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P
Pretty Ricky
(Real freak)
He gotta pleasure the P (Real freak)
Pretty Ricky
(Get on your knees)
Pleasure the P (Get on your knees)
Pleasure the P
(Ayy) , he gotta pleasure the P
I don't want him 'less the
Nigga got big racks
And I'm waiting on a ho to drop a diss track
I ain't going back and forth on the internet
I'ma pull up on her ass, put an end to that
Blowing through the money like a clarinet
They be ass dancing on the turtleneck
Where you from? I ain't ever heard of that
Birkin bag where I keep the burner at
When you live like this, bitch
Every day payday
Put it in his face
Nut in his mouth like Payday
I been stacking chips
I stay with a bag like Frito Lay
Firefighter, if she got smoke, pull up
Let it spray
Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P
Pretty Ricky, he gotta pleasure the P
(Real freak)
Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P (Real freak)
Pleasure the P
(Get on your knees)
He gotta pleasure the P (Get on your knees)
Real freak
Get on your knees
Get on your knees
Yeah
(Latto, let 'em know...)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P (Real freak)
Pretty Ricky, he gotta pleasure the P
(Real freak)
Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P
Pleasure the P, he gotta pleasure the P
Light this bitch up like a candle
I got them big toys like Santa
Bitches ain't hard
They just turn on up camera
He love my grammar, I'm from Atlanta
So I don't want to hear R&B, fuck me to trap
Street smart and book smart
You know all them niggas love that
(All them niggas love that)
I can't walk through no metal detector
Niggas rats, talking to the detective
Niggas fold every time under pressure
Fuck a label, I'm my own investor
Hundred thou', stuff it right in the dresser
Pocket full of blues, bitch, I need extra
Left that nigga, he'll never do better
Tell him when to shoot like a director
Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P
Pretty Ricky
(Real freak)
He gotta pleasure the P (Real freak)
Pretty Ricky
(Get on your knees)
Pleasure the P (Get on your knees)
Pleasure the P
(Ayy) , he gotta pleasure the P
I don't want him 'less the
Nigga got big racks
And I'm waiting on a ho to drop a diss track
I ain't going back and forth on the internet
I'ma pull up on her ass, put an end to that
Blowing through the money like a clarinet
They be ass dancing on the turtleneck
Where you from? I ain't ever heard of that
Birkin bag where I keep the burner at
When you live like this, bitch
Every day payday
Put it in his face
Nut in his mouth like Payday
I been stacking chips
I stay with a bag like Frito Lay
Firefighter, if she got smoke, pull up
Let it spray
Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P
Pretty Ricky, he gotta pleasure the P
(Real freak)
Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P (Real freak)
Pleasure the P
(Get on your knees)
He gotta pleasure the P (Get on your knees)
Real freak
Get on your knees
Get on your knees