Roddy Ricch - Brand New lyrics
Roddy Ricch [Rodrick Wayne Moore Jr.] Compton, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Roddy Ricch - Brand New lyrics]
Hunnid bands for a kilo, nigga
When it came to gettin' racks
I got new dividends
Got a thick brown skin bitch
I call her Cinnamon
Took some losses in these streets
I gotta pack and then wait for the win
I had to tuck a mil', I
Got in the field, nigga, then I did it again
I was in the streets lil'
Nigga, I really went platinum, yeah
Feelin' like Joe when I was in the
Trap, I was whippin' up Jacksons, yeah
I was down bad, niggas turned they backs
Yeah they ain't know that I was
Fillin' up the mattress, yeah
I was just a broke nigga
Now a nigga designer my feet
'17 foreign car, tinted windows
Ridin' down the street, yeah
I gotta feed the streets
The motto is "All my niggas gotta eat"
I had to trap it out, I
Wasn't even gettin' no sleep, yeah
Ayy, gotta put my new bitch in a mink
She collect the bag like a Brink
And that shit mean everything to me
'Cause she gotta ball like me
I was gettin' off of robbin'
I was on and off the road
Had to learn the hard way
That these streets so cold
Celebratin' with the Ace of Spade
Pourin' up the rose gold
You would think I was in the garden
How I'm pullin' up the Rolls
You would think that I'm a shredder
How I'm fuckin' up a check
And I ain't never played tennis but I
Got a couple on my neck
She say she want me to flood the
Face to get the Audemars Piguet
I'm the youngest richest nigga that
Been poppin' out the set
I got the answers, nigga
I don't need no auto-correct
Got it jumpin' out my own city, then I
Moved to Brooklyn like the Nets, yeah, yeah
I didn't know who to trust
Once I hopped in the coupe
Once I hopped in my bag, yeah
I didn't know what to do
Gotta get this money
You can't let it change you but I can't lie
All these hunnids got a
Nigga feelin' brand new
I just fucked my main bitch on
A private jet to Cancun
Gave her my heart before I knew
The bitch was ran through
That's why when it come to these hoes, I
Gotta stay in love with double cup, yeah
Chasin' the bag, that's on the regular
I gotta run it up, yeah
When it came to gettin' racks
I got new dividends
Got a thick brown skin bitch
I call her Cinnamon
Took some losses in these streets
I gotta pack and then wait for the win
I had to tuck a mil', I
Got in the field, nigga, then I did it again
I was in the streets lil'
Nigga, I really went platinum, yeah
Feelin' like Joe when I was in the
Trap, I was whippin' up Jacksons, yeah
I was down bad, niggas turned they backs
Yeah they ain't know that I was
Fillin' up the mattress, yeah
I was just a broke nigga
Now a nigga designer my feet
'17 foreign car, tinted windows
Ridin' down the street, yeah
I gotta feed the streets
The motto is "All my niggas gotta eat"
I had to trap it out, I
Wasn't even gettin' no sleep, yeah
Ayy, gotta put my new bitch in a mink
She collect the bag like a Brink
And that shit mean everything to me
'Cause she gotta ball like me
I was gettin' off of robbin'
I was on and off the road
Had to learn the hard way
That these streets so cold
Celebratin' with the Ace of Spade
Pourin' up the rose gold
You would think I was in the garden
How I'm pullin' up the Rolls
You would think that I'm a shredder
How I'm fuckin' up a check
And I ain't never played tennis but I
Got a couple on my neck
She say she want me to flood the
Face to get the Audemars Piguet
I'm the youngest richest nigga that
Been poppin' out the set
I got the answers, nigga
I don't need no auto-correct
Got it jumpin' out my own city, then I
Moved to Brooklyn like the Nets, yeah, yeah
I didn't know who to trust
Once I hopped in the coupe
Once I hopped in my bag, yeah
I didn't know what to do
Gotta get this money
You can't let it change you but I can't lie
All these hunnids got a
Nigga feelin' brand new
I just fucked my main bitch on
A private jet to Cancun
Gave her my heart before I knew
The bitch was ran through
That's why when it come to these hoes, I
Gotta stay in love with double cup, yeah
Chasin' the bag, that's on the regular
I gotta run it up, yeah