Izaya Tiji, Rich Amiri - Ricky Kobe lyrics
Rich Amiri [Amiri Dexter Chase] Boston/Randolph, Massachusetts, U.S 🇺🇸
[Izaya Tiji, Rich Amiri - Ricky Kobe lyrics]
He slayed this one
I don't say nun’ in my
Barber I just sit there, oh
You keep complaining 'bout money, but
You ain't gone get that, oh
You ride with killers and dealers
But you don’t fit there, oh
Bro sent us right up to Lenox
I brought that blick there, oh
Don't worry nigga we could put
You with your dead ones
You gone keep tweaking we gone have
To put you head on
I'm sipping dirty, dirty, dirty
Ain't no Flint though i like Raf
But I don't really fuck with Rick though
We in Florida, but we smoking Cali gas
I don't really know this bitch
As far as that go
I guess I just see through a different glass
I just can't go out fuck with just any hoe
He went broke
I was tryna' tell his stupid ass
Your racks get bigger when you
Don’t spend it on yourself, bro
Just stay down and get
Your lil’ exclusive bag
Pick up bro, let's go pull
Out a check from Wells, bro
I guess designer shit don’t hit the same
When you know you gone' be rich one day
I was in school and ain't had anything
Damn near had to wait till Sunday
Tryna put my momma in Chanel and pinky rings
I ain't there but I know I’m
Gone be there one day
Remember when you said don't
Worry 'bout a thing
You lost your soul and then you
Let your demons lead the way
And now I'm sitting wit' the
Bosses and the kings and we want war, boy
If he really want some gunplay
And I bet that choppa' eat
Him just like some wings
And we can fuck but I don't
Know nothing 'bout love baby
No I ain't love crazy
Just hop up in the room and
Just come take these drugs baby
Then you done baby
Know that choppa' eat like food
When it shoot you better run baby
Girl like Tom made it
And that nigga acting lame so I
Had to tell him stop hating
Jugg you in broad day
I might get my hunters on
You they a call away
I might get my hunters on
You they a call away
Might get my hunters on you they a call away
Woah, Woah, they a call away
Woah, Woah, they a call away
I don't say nun' in my
Barber I just sit there, oh
You keep complaining 'bout money, but
You ain't gone get that, oh
You ride with killers and dealers
But you don't fit there, oh
Bro sent us right up to Lenox
I brought that blick there, oh
Don't worry nigga we could put
You with your dead ones
You gone keep tweaking we gone have
To put you head on
I'm sipping dirty, dirty, dirty
Ain't no Flint though i like Raf
But I don't really fuck with Rick though
I don't say nun’ in my
Barber I just sit there, oh
You keep complaining 'bout money, but
You ain't gone get that, oh
You ride with killers and dealers
But you don’t fit there, oh
Bro sent us right up to Lenox
I brought that blick there, oh
Don't worry nigga we could put
You with your dead ones
You gone keep tweaking we gone have
To put you head on
I'm sipping dirty, dirty, dirty
Ain't no Flint though i like Raf
But I don't really fuck with Rick though
We in Florida, but we smoking Cali gas
I don't really know this bitch
As far as that go
I guess I just see through a different glass
I just can't go out fuck with just any hoe
He went broke
I was tryna' tell his stupid ass
Your racks get bigger when you
Don’t spend it on yourself, bro
Just stay down and get
Your lil’ exclusive bag
Pick up bro, let's go pull
Out a check from Wells, bro
I guess designer shit don’t hit the same
When you know you gone' be rich one day
I was in school and ain't had anything
Damn near had to wait till Sunday
Tryna put my momma in Chanel and pinky rings
I ain't there but I know I’m
Gone be there one day
Remember when you said don't
Worry 'bout a thing
You lost your soul and then you
Let your demons lead the way
And now I'm sitting wit' the
Bosses and the kings and we want war, boy
If he really want some gunplay
And I bet that choppa' eat
Him just like some wings
And we can fuck but I don't
Know nothing 'bout love baby
No I ain't love crazy
Just hop up in the room and
Just come take these drugs baby
Then you done baby
Know that choppa' eat like food
When it shoot you better run baby
Girl like Tom made it
And that nigga acting lame so I
Had to tell him stop hating
Jugg you in broad day
I might get my hunters on
You they a call away
I might get my hunters on
You they a call away
Might get my hunters on you they a call away
Woah, Woah, they a call away
Woah, Woah, they a call away
I don't say nun' in my
Barber I just sit there, oh
You keep complaining 'bout money, but
You ain't gone get that, oh
You ride with killers and dealers
But you don't fit there, oh
Bro sent us right up to Lenox
I brought that blick there, oh
Don't worry nigga we could put
You with your dead ones
You gone keep tweaking we gone have
To put you head on
I'm sipping dirty, dirty, dirty
Ain't no Flint though i like Raf
But I don't really fuck with Rick though