Dead Friends Lyrics – Rich The Kid
Singer: Rich The Kid
Title: Dead Friends
You lil’ n#gg#s, man (you lil’ n#gg#s is little)
Know what I’m sayin’
Big bosses big, big boss, CEO sh#t
You know what I’m sayin’?
Take yo hoe and some more sh#t, you dig?
Pour a four, sh#t
Mustard on the beat, ho
You little n#gg#s (little n#gg#s)
My check bigger (check bigger)
Can’t flex, n#gg# (flex)
Can’t bet witcha (huh)
Teach you how to be a boss (boss), top dropped off (skrrt)
Motherf#ck the fame, I done came to the vault (for what)
All them dead friends (dead)
You a middleman (what)
You a little man (little, huh)
Your money getting shorter (shorter)
My b#tch from ‘cross the water (b#tch)
Teach you how to count it (yeah), all about it, better boss up (rich)
Put my pride to the side (side), I could never lie
I don’t care if you cry, let them p#ss# n#gg#s die
Ayy, Bentley matte black (skrrt), ooh, different kind of fabric
CEO status (huh), all my n#gg#s savage (what)
You n#gg#s’ll change for fame (fame)
It’s a sad game (sad game)
This the fast lane (skrrt)
Dug up money with the shovel (shovel), I could bury the bundle
It’s the Lamb, yeah
What you been sayin’, yeah? (What you been sayin’, yeah?)
Ooh, it’s the game, yeah (gang)
Yeah them chopsticks no lil’ sh#t (grra)
You could get your wig split (your wig split)
Couple mil on that deal, n#gg# (deal, n#gg#)
I’m a boss, my whole team countin’ still, n#gg# (rich)
You little n#gg#s (little n#gg#s)
My check bigger (check bigger)
Can’t flex, n#gg# (flex)
Can’t bet witcha (huh)
Teach you how to be a boss (boss), top dropped off (skrrt)
Motherf#ck the fame, I done came to the vault (for what)
All them dead friends (dead)
You a middleman (what)
You a little man (little, huh)
Your money getting shorter (shorter)
My b#tch from ‘cross the water (b#tch)
Teach you how to count it (yeah), all about it, better boss up (rich)
Pull up with the drama (drama)
Better be movin’ proper (what)
Better use a yoppa (grra)
We ain’t playin’ fair, you a teddy bear (teddy)
My wrist too cold with Moncler
Talkin’ the trap but you not there
On the b#llsh#t (b#llsh#t), that pullin’ up quick (quick)
Like a foreign so many sticks (sticks)
That’s that tragic sh#t (tragic shit)
I got the baddest b#tch (baddest)
Yeah, yeah (yah)
Yeah, yeah, quarter mil on my car, yeah (quarter milli)
Drippin’ in Chanel, that’s a bar, yeah (that’s a bar)
Come to Rich Forever, be a star, yeah (be a star)
I got too much ice (ice)
I got (I got)
Too many broads, too much paper, right (rich)
You little n#gg#s (little n#gg#s), my check bigger (check bigger)
Can’t flex, n#gg# (flex), can’t bet witcha (huh)
Teach you how to be a boss (boss), top dropped off (skrrt)
Motherf#ck the fame, I done came to the vault (for what)
All them dead friends (dead), you a middleman (what)
You a little man (little, huh)
Your money getting shorter (shorter)
My b#tch from ‘cross the water (b#tch)
Teach you how to count it (yeah), all about it, better boss up (rich)
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Lyrics Rich The Kid – Dead Friends
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