Rich Homie Quan - 4rm Me To U lyrics
Rich Homie Quan [Dequantes Devontay Lamar] Atlanta, Georgia, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Rich Homie Quan - 4rm Me To U lyrics]
Yeah, Aye catour fuck it up
Gotta sit on this mic ‘cause I
Can’t keep my thoughts inside me
And I keep them hoes at
My spot like Michael Lowrey
Got a bad lil bih from Paris
Met her at the Eiffel Tower
Bought a brand new watch for my birthday but
I ain’t put no ice around it (no no)
I can’t change the person I am baby but
I can change the way that I live
(rich homie)
And if a thing happened for a reason
Baby I can’t change nothing I did (uh uh)
If I could change anything baby
Wouldn't've made you never aborted that kid
But I did and it’s on my mind still
(I'm sorry baby)
I been tryna find a way to forgive
(tryna find a way)
You want diamonds off in my ear
Shinin', they know I'm clear, behind me
They in the rear
We kickin' pimpin' over here
No lame bitches over here
I say them bitches ain't gettin' paid
On they face a lot of hate
But I ain't trippin' 'cause they do
A lot of shade throwin'
Me and my buddy hit a lick last week
We had to split it all this money boy
I told him let's get paid homie
I do this shit for gang gang
Gave all of my niggas chains
And right now I swear I feel
Just like a slave owner
All these nigga takin' swag
Hell yeah the homie mad
Come to think about it
They ain't ever pay homage
I put a lot these niggas on and
I still ain't got my credit
But I ain't mad though
(nah) 'cause I could've been mad broke (yeah)
I watch my momma work a double just to
Feed all her kids 'cause that bag slow
(she got like three of em)
Gotta make that cash flow (I love you momma)
But I couldn't let my momma struggle
So I got me a job (nah nigga)
But she ain't know my job require
A gun 'cause I rob
She ain't ever understand what was
Back in the kitchen, residue on the floors
(I was hustlin') she ain't know about the
Shootout in her truck
(fa-fa-fa) , until I was involved
She ain't know about the co-defendant I had
Kept it one hundred took the charge
(I didn't take shit)
You the only one put somethin' on my books
When I was in jail and I starved
(when I was locked up)
Cut from a different cloth
I'm as rare as they come
And I'ma keep ballin' on these bitches
Like my hair is gone (rich homie baby)
I say them bitches ain't gettin' paid
On they face a lot of hate
But I ain't trippin' 'cause they do
A lot of shade throwin'
Me and my buddy hit a lick last week
We had to split it all this
Money boy, I told him let's get paid homie
I do this shit for gang gang
Gave all of my niggas chains
And right now I swear I feel
Just like a slave owner
All these niggas takin' swag
Hell yeah the homie mad
Come to think about it they
Ain't never paid homage
At this point, yeen got
To bro, haha nahmsayin
I watch myself put you
Niggas on, ya feel me, so at
This point I'm dead nigga, homie
Gotta sit on this mic ‘cause I
Can’t keep my thoughts inside me
And I keep them hoes at
My spot like Michael Lowrey
Got a bad lil bih from Paris
Met her at the Eiffel Tower
Bought a brand new watch for my birthday but
I ain’t put no ice around it (no no)
I can’t change the person I am baby but
I can change the way that I live
(rich homie)
And if a thing happened for a reason
Baby I can’t change nothing I did (uh uh)
If I could change anything baby
Wouldn't've made you never aborted that kid
But I did and it’s on my mind still
(I'm sorry baby)
I been tryna find a way to forgive
(tryna find a way)
You want diamonds off in my ear
Shinin', they know I'm clear, behind me
They in the rear
We kickin' pimpin' over here
No lame bitches over here
I say them bitches ain't gettin' paid
On they face a lot of hate
But I ain't trippin' 'cause they do
A lot of shade throwin'
Me and my buddy hit a lick last week
We had to split it all this money boy
I told him let's get paid homie
I do this shit for gang gang
Gave all of my niggas chains
And right now I swear I feel
Just like a slave owner
All these nigga takin' swag
Hell yeah the homie mad
Come to think about it
They ain't ever pay homage
I put a lot these niggas on and
I still ain't got my credit
But I ain't mad though
(nah) 'cause I could've been mad broke (yeah)
I watch my momma work a double just to
Feed all her kids 'cause that bag slow
(she got like three of em)
Gotta make that cash flow (I love you momma)
But I couldn't let my momma struggle
So I got me a job (nah nigga)
But she ain't know my job require
A gun 'cause I rob
She ain't ever understand what was
Back in the kitchen, residue on the floors
(I was hustlin') she ain't know about the
Shootout in her truck
(fa-fa-fa) , until I was involved
She ain't know about the co-defendant I had
Kept it one hundred took the charge
(I didn't take shit)
You the only one put somethin' on my books
When I was in jail and I starved
(when I was locked up)
Cut from a different cloth
I'm as rare as they come
And I'ma keep ballin' on these bitches
Like my hair is gone (rich homie baby)
I say them bitches ain't gettin' paid
On they face a lot of hate
But I ain't trippin' 'cause they do
A lot of shade throwin'
Me and my buddy hit a lick last week
We had to split it all this
Money boy, I told him let's get paid homie
I do this shit for gang gang
Gave all of my niggas chains
And right now I swear I feel
Just like a slave owner
All these niggas takin' swag
Hell yeah the homie mad
Come to think about it they
Ain't never paid homage
At this point, yeen got
To bro, haha nahmsayin
I watch myself put you
Niggas on, ya feel me, so at
This point I'm dead nigga, homie