yella beezy – rich nigga problems lyrics
[chorus]
i ain’t tryna argue if it ain’t ’bout a dollar
yeah i’m out here grindin’ hard like it’s no tomorrow
tryna stuff a hundred bands right down in my joggers
these b-tches actin’ like they love a n-gga, these hoes need an oscar
i got rich n-gga problems
whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa, whoa, whoa-oh
i got rich n-gga problems
whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa, whoa, whoa-oh
i got rich n-gga problems, if it ain’t ’bout a dollar
yeah i’m out here grindin’ hard like it’s no tomorrow
tryna stuff a hundred bands right down in my joggers
these b-tches actin’ like they love a n-gga, these hoes need an oscar
[verse 1]
i got rich n-gga problems, these hoes get so awful
say you need to play your part, ayy lil b-tch get off me
why don’t you come bring me a bag, that would be so thoughtful
way a n-gga pop these rubber bands, it’s makin’ me naseous
every day i’m saucin’, so turned up and flossin’
hopped up out the audi then took off in the rari
all these hoes that turned me down, i’m gon’ make you sorry
got that draco by my waist ho, yeah, you better be catious
i’m coolin’ with my feet up, b-tch boy don’t get beat up
hit him with a haymaker and make him pick his t–th up
he love trappin’ in designer, gettin’ dope money in fila’s
i know how to stay down, no i can’t f-ck up my lil re-up
[chorus]
i ain’t tryna argue if it ain’t ’bout a dollar
yeah i’m out here grindin’ hard like it’s no tomorrow
tryna stuff a hundred bands right down in my joggers
these b-tches actin’ like they love a n-gga, these hoes need an oscar
i got rich n-gga problems
whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa, whoa, whoa-oh
i got rich n-gga problems
whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa, whoa, whoa-oh
i got rich n-gga problems
[verse 2]
hey, rich n-gga, hey, i can f-ck your b-tch n-gga
cliff n-gga, f-ck around with stiff n-ggas
don’t trip n-gga, make your lil ho strip n-gga
i’m lit n-gga, put that sh-t on crip n-gga
ayy, i go gnarly
i’m not hurtin’ and i’m not starvin’
go r-t-rded, lift my shirt and show my forty
hey, drop top porsches, hey, serve these fiends off in my jordans
these all black forces, let me run my bands up, had no charleston
all white lam, and i think i might just ride the horse one
big rolls royces, that bentley get to trottin’, i ain’t talkin’ ’bout horses
i keep hearin’ voices
say k!ll these n-ggas and start extortin’ ’em
my b-tches they gorgeous
my trap stay rollin’ b-tch, just like forgis
[chorus]
i ain’t tryna argue if it ain’t ’bout a dollar
yeah i’m out here grindin’ hard like it’s no tomorrow
tryna stuff a hundred bands right down in my joggers
these b-tches actin’ like they love a n-gga, these hoes need an oscar
i got rich n-gga problems
whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa, whoa, whoa-oh
i got rich n-gga problems
whoa-oh, whoa-oh, whoa, whoa, whoa-oh
i got rich n-gga problems
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