Rich Homie Quan - Back End lyrics
Rich Homie Quan [Dequantes Devontay Lamar] Atlanta, Georgia, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Rich Homie Quan - Back End lyrics]
30 thousand for a Jesus piece
I put that on yo' head
Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more
Them boys will bite you in that bed
Talk to God before I eat
And end it off with a "Amen"
I don't care how tired I get
I'ma still run up them bands
I'ma still count up my back end
I'ma still do it for my fam
Just because I got a lil' money
That do not define the person I am
I don't give a fuck about
What the critics say
I'ma stack it up for them papers
I clocked in, like I'm workin'
I ain't have to sell my soul
It ain't worth it
Sold out, sold out, now I'm mad
We done sold out, it's a hold out
Hold out on them bags
We gon' roll 'bout 1 somethin', 4 of y'all
2 in the van
I don't care what that money do
I'ma blow this shit like a fan
RIP to my nigga Shawty Lo
I'm still walkin' 'round feelin' like the man
Commissary goin' out on Sunday
Gotta make sure I still got a plan
Talk to my girl on Monday
On the phone with my hands in my pants
Walkin' around with my hand on my ear 'cause
I ain't heard a word that they sayin'
Niggas talk about what they gon' do
Rubber bands still around that paper
Overdue for some new music
Might as well put it out for my haters
Niggas talkin' hard, know they can't stop me
I'm in that front yard with them choppers
I'll do whatever for my partner
I hit the jewelry store with
30 thousand for a Jesus piece
I put that on yo' head
Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more
Them boys will bite you in that bed
Talk to God before I eat
And end it off with a "Amen"
I don't care how tired I get
I'ma still run up them bands
I'ma still count up my back end
I'ma still do it for my fam
Just because I got a lil' money
That do not define the person I am
I don't give a fuck about
What the critics say
I'ma stack it up for them papers
I clocked in, like I'm workin'
I ain't have to sell my soul
It ain't worth it
Nigga lurkin', cell phone, no serivce
Tint on the car, not workin'
So I had to close them curtains (O-o-o oh)
Pulled up in somethin' they
Ain't never heard of
I ain't seen no caution tape
But the whole scene I murdered
(Woooo) Lyin' to me, I'm used to bitches
Watchin' out who I'm talkin' to
'cause a lot of niggas, they superstitious
Dirty pots, cause I used the dishes
40 Glock, keep it in my britches
50 shots of them big bullets
That lil' nigga might need stitches
That big body, I lean in it
That drop top sellin' fiends in it
And I ain't gotta wear a suit everyday
To show a nigga I mean business
With all this lean, I need a kidney
Why the lil' boy goin' so hard?
You tellin' on me, you the real 12
You lame as hell like a soap opera
30 thousand for a Jesus piece
I put that on yo' head
Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more
Them boys will bite you in that bed
Talk to God before I eat
And end it off with a "Amen"
I don't care how tired I get
I'ma still run up them bands
I'ma still count up my back end
I'ma still do it for my fam
Just because I got a lil' money
That do not define the person I am
I don't give a fuck about
What the critics say
I'ma stack it up for them papers
I clocked in, like I'm workin'
I ain't have to sell my soul
It ain't worth it
I put that on yo' head
Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more
Them boys will bite you in that bed
Talk to God before I eat
And end it off with a "Amen"
I don't care how tired I get
I'ma still run up them bands
I'ma still count up my back end
I'ma still do it for my fam
Just because I got a lil' money
That do not define the person I am
I don't give a fuck about
What the critics say
I'ma stack it up for them papers
I clocked in, like I'm workin'
I ain't have to sell my soul
It ain't worth it
Sold out, sold out, now I'm mad
We done sold out, it's a hold out
Hold out on them bags
We gon' roll 'bout 1 somethin', 4 of y'all
2 in the van
I don't care what that money do
I'ma blow this shit like a fan
RIP to my nigga Shawty Lo
I'm still walkin' 'round feelin' like the man
Commissary goin' out on Sunday
Gotta make sure I still got a plan
Talk to my girl on Monday
On the phone with my hands in my pants
Walkin' around with my hand on my ear 'cause
I ain't heard a word that they sayin'
Niggas talk about what they gon' do
Rubber bands still around that paper
Overdue for some new music
Might as well put it out for my haters
Niggas talkin' hard, know they can't stop me
I'm in that front yard with them choppers
I'll do whatever for my partner
I hit the jewelry store with
30 thousand for a Jesus piece
I put that on yo' head
Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more
Them boys will bite you in that bed
Talk to God before I eat
And end it off with a "Amen"
I don't care how tired I get
I'ma still run up them bands
I'ma still count up my back end
I'ma still do it for my fam
Just because I got a lil' money
That do not define the person I am
I don't give a fuck about
What the critics say
I'ma stack it up for them papers
I clocked in, like I'm workin'
I ain't have to sell my soul
It ain't worth it
Nigga lurkin', cell phone, no serivce
Tint on the car, not workin'
So I had to close them curtains (O-o-o oh)
Pulled up in somethin' they
Ain't never heard of
I ain't seen no caution tape
But the whole scene I murdered
(Woooo) Lyin' to me, I'm used to bitches
Watchin' out who I'm talkin' to
'cause a lot of niggas, they superstitious
Dirty pots, cause I used the dishes
40 Glock, keep it in my britches
50 shots of them big bullets
That lil' nigga might need stitches
That big body, I lean in it
That drop top sellin' fiends in it
And I ain't gotta wear a suit everyday
To show a nigga I mean business
With all this lean, I need a kidney
Why the lil' boy goin' so hard?
You tellin' on me, you the real 12
You lame as hell like a soap opera
30 thousand for a Jesus piece
I put that on yo' head
Freddy Krueger don't scare me no more
Them boys will bite you in that bed
Talk to God before I eat
And end it off with a "Amen"
I don't care how tired I get
I'ma still run up them bands
I'ma still count up my back end
I'ma still do it for my fam
Just because I got a lil' money
That do not define the person I am
I don't give a fuck about
What the critics say
I'ma stack it up for them papers
I clocked in, like I'm workin'
I ain't have to sell my soul
It ain't worth it