34 Lyrics – Rich Homie Quan
Singer: Rich Homie Quan
Title: 34
30, you a fool for this one
Herschel Walker, used to ride that Marta, yeah, that thirty-four
Pants saggin’, bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close
Church in session, talk sh#t like the pastor, catch the holy ghost
Trap is bunkin’ and we makin’ money, see that open door
We been gettin’ it, we been goin’ hard, boy, I gotta have it
Neighbor trippin’, way too many cars, we got too much traffic
Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it’s automatic
You work at Lids, puttin’ sh#t on your kids, go’n with all that cappin’ (talk your sh#t, Rich Homie)
Pulled up in that Benz, I hopped out perfect (I hopped out clean)
Tried to rob me, you got killed, now was it worth it? (fa fa fa fa)
Might buy that Maybach, I grew up without no curtains (might buy that six-three, n#gg#)
And when I get it, I’ma keep my windows rolled up on purpose (ayy, ayy)
You can’t tell a n#gg# like me sh#t (nah)
I ain’t have it all when I was little (nope)
Sixteen years old drinkin’ liquor (what?)
I ain’t never ever touched a beer (ha)
I ain’t never ever touch a mill’ (never)
Till I stayed down and start rappin’ (I stayed down, n#gg#)
Then I turned my dreams into reality (that right too), I rode that
Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four
Pants saggin’, bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close
Church in session, talk sh#t like the pastor, catch the holy ghost
Trap is bunkin’ and we makin’ money, see that open door
We been gettin’ it, we been goin’ hard, boy, I gotta have it
Neighbor trippin’, way too many cars, we got too much traffic
Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it’s automatic
You work at Lids, puttin’ sh#t on your kids, go’n with all that cappin’
We were growin’ up fightin’ when we were kids (yeah)
Remember some nights where we ain’t eat? (ayy)
I was Holyfield hustlin’ in the trap (truth)
They was Mike Tyson bitin’ on the kid (ayy, Mike)
I remember tryin’ to get rich (hey)
Smokin’ two for fives of the mid (woo)
Never had nothing growin’ up (nah)
n#gg#, don’t be surprised when I get it (ayy)
Where were you when I was on my dick? (woo)
I was so broke, I needed fix (yup)
Reminiscin’ ’bout me growin’ up
You know I hate to talk about this sh#t (I do)
Load the ten and walked up out the b#tch (ten)
Stripper fame, tryin’ to see who gettin’ it (ha)
Walkin’ around with that thang on me
And you know I got my license for this b#tch (Rich Homie, baby)
Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four
Pants saggin’, bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close
Church in session, talk sh#t like the pastor, catch the holy ghost
Trap is bunkin’ and we makin’ money, see that open door
We been gettin’ it, we been goin’ hard, boy, I gotta have it
Neighbor trippin’, way too many cars, we got too much traffic
Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it’s automatic
You work at Lids, puttin’ sh#t on your kids, go’n with all that cappin’
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Lyrics Rich Homie Quan – 34
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