Roddy Ricch - Ricch Vibes lyrics
Roddy Ricch [Rodrick Wayne Moore Jr.] Compton, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Roddy Ricch - Ricch Vibes lyrics]
This boy got a hit
I just want you hear me when I pull up, skrrt
(Skrrt)
Have a conversation, don't wan' see you hurt
You ain't settle for him 'cause
You know your worth (Know your worth)
Got it from the mud I got it out the dirt
These bitches tell you anything to
Get up in your pocket
These bitches fucking with me cause
They know I'm all poppin'
Pull up in the i8 had
These bitches jaw droppin'
She wanna go to my place
Had these jaw droppin'
I got' tell my feelings, gotta tell the truth
You could be for these bitches
They won't be for you
I had a damn, bitch, I ain't know what to do
I had to chase this rap shit
And go get the loot (This boy got a hit)
And that don't mean that I ain't
Give the world to my bitch
I know she was down
So she deserve to be rich
Shorty I'ma go and get you Birkin bags
That Rolls Royce
You can be the first to have it
If I see it, I'ma grab it
Take you to Atlanta, we gon' flood out Magic
And you not by my side, shawty
I can't imagine you make me choosin' you but
You know rap my passion
I ain't tryna play you this not on demand
Tryna run that check up tryna get them bands
That bitch is my fan, I am not your man
I don't know these bitches
They just want my sand
Blow up twenty-piece 'cause I know I can
Put it on a ring so I can ask your hand
I'm just tryna blow while I'm on tour
So I can have the flowers
Hoppin' out the Benz huh, huh
Look at you it's like lookin' the mirror
Bought you Cartiers know you seeing clearer
I bought that new Ferrari we
Gon take to dinner come fuck with double R
We some fucking winners
Get your best friend, I call Chris
He can tag team along
Talkin' 'bout my feelings I ain't
Tryna brag too long
I'm just tryna tell you that I'm all yours
Shopping bags, we can have a car full
(This boy got a hit)
Slide down the window while I poured up
Backwoods had the windows rolled up
Just make sure that you never ever use me
'Cause I can never fuck
With none these groupies
Your friends tryna tell you that
I ain't the right nigga don't listen to 'em
They tryna have no life with ya
Just hang 'em up
Don't let them break the frame on my picture
They fuck the same niggas these
Bitches won't ride with ya
See, I'm just tryna tell you
How I feel inside turn this music on when
You ain't feeling right
Turn on Roddy Ricch when niggas tryna vibe
I'm in your mind
(This boy got a hit) , I'm in your mind
I'm in your mind
Ayy, ayy, tell 'em I'm in your mind
Ayy, shawty do you mind?
Can I just vibe? Ayy
Ayy, don't break the frame on my picture
Hey, these bitches, they won't ride with you
Tryna take you to the sky, ride with me
Hey baby I just wanna take you high
Fly with me, ayy hey, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey, hey yeah, yeah yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, hey this boy got a hit
I just want you hear me when I pull up, skrrt
(Skrrt)
Have a conversation, don't wan' see you hurt
You ain't settle for him 'cause
You know your worth (Know your worth)
Got it from the mud I got it out the dirt
These bitches tell you anything to
Get up in your pocket
These bitches fucking with me cause
They know I'm all poppin'
Pull up in the i8 had
These bitches jaw droppin'
She wanna go to my place
Had these jaw droppin'
I got' tell my feelings, gotta tell the truth
You could be for these bitches
They won't be for you
I had a damn, bitch, I ain't know what to do
I had to chase this rap shit
And go get the loot (This boy got a hit)
And that don't mean that I ain't
Give the world to my bitch
I know she was down
So she deserve to be rich
Shorty I'ma go and get you Birkin bags
That Rolls Royce
You can be the first to have it
If I see it, I'ma grab it
Take you to Atlanta, we gon' flood out Magic
And you not by my side, shawty
I can't imagine you make me choosin' you but
You know rap my passion
I ain't tryna play you this not on demand
Tryna run that check up tryna get them bands
That bitch is my fan, I am not your man
I don't know these bitches
They just want my sand
Blow up twenty-piece 'cause I know I can
Put it on a ring so I can ask your hand
I'm just tryna blow while I'm on tour
So I can have the flowers
Hoppin' out the Benz huh, huh
Look at you it's like lookin' the mirror
Bought you Cartiers know you seeing clearer
I bought that new Ferrari we
Gon take to dinner come fuck with double R
We some fucking winners
Get your best friend, I call Chris
He can tag team along
Talkin' 'bout my feelings I ain't
Tryna brag too long
I'm just tryna tell you that I'm all yours
Shopping bags, we can have a car full
(This boy got a hit)
Slide down the window while I poured up
Backwoods had the windows rolled up
Just make sure that you never ever use me
'Cause I can never fuck
With none these groupies
Your friends tryna tell you that
I ain't the right nigga don't listen to 'em
They tryna have no life with ya
Just hang 'em up
Don't let them break the frame on my picture
They fuck the same niggas these
Bitches won't ride with ya
See, I'm just tryna tell you
How I feel inside turn this music on when
You ain't feeling right
Turn on Roddy Ricch when niggas tryna vibe
I'm in your mind
(This boy got a hit) , I'm in your mind
I'm in your mind
Ayy, ayy, tell 'em I'm in your mind
Ayy, shawty do you mind?
Can I just vibe? Ayy
Ayy, don't break the frame on my picture
Hey, these bitches, they won't ride with you
Tryna take you to the sky, ride with me
Hey baby I just wanna take you high
Fly with me, ayy hey, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey, hey yeah, yeah yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, hey this boy got a hit