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rich homie quan - mojo lyrics

[intro]
man, i’ve been down so much, bro
y’all wouldn’t even understand the half of it, you feel me?
y’all don’t know about being on section 8 and sh-t bout that, bro
insane sh-t man, three days straight man, for real

[chorus]
i’ve been here so much i forgot what the top looked like
convertible 442, forgot what the top looked like
little shorty -ss so fat i forgot what the top was like
beat that p-ssy, boxing fight
don’t talk to cowards, i am austin powers
n-gg- i done found my mojo, i done found my mojo
i done found my, found my mojo (that’s right too)
i done found my mojo, i done found my mojo
i done found my mojo

[verse 1]
i say that mojo show the inside
ain’t got nothing to [?], ain’t got nothing to [?], but
keep your confidence up cause, a lot of n-gg-s they might try you
my personality is different from my mojo, i divide them
light a n-gg- up like a firetruck
[?]
if a n-gg- try and run off, we gon find him
if a n-gg- get away, we gone tie his -ss up
we gon’ put him in the truck, we gon’ hide him
i used to get paid seven dollars every hour
now a n-gg- get paid by the thousand
f-ck that, i’m a millionaire now
got a versace robe just so i can lounge in it
pounding that p-ssy, f-ck speed limit
bought it just so i can motherf-cking clown in that bentley
i ain’t been around in a minute, but that don’t mean i wasn’t working
i was just holding it down for my n-gg-s, more money, problems right quick
i had to make it from the bottom like this, cause…

[verse 2]
f-ck her good and she send them kissy faces
i ain’t never lose my mojo, i probably just misplaced it
separate myself, i’m solo, they mad, see it in they faces
yeah i’m talking bout them haters, yeah i’m talking bout them haters
and my car have these cameras cause that b-tch ain’t got no roof
and my n-gg-s they gon’ go on simon says, boy, they gone shoot
and i just relapsed, i’m back off that drank, i’m on that juice
and i still drop them old names, still reminiscing ’bout troupe
i just got my mojo back, i feel like austin powers felt
money hold my pants up, so why the f-ck i need a belt?
cook that work, don’t need a chef
so much money, my bag swollen
watching out for these haters, i’m keeping my eyes open, ayy!

- rich homie quan lyrics

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