Rich Rapper R3 Da Chilliman

[Chorus]
They can't do what we do ’cause they don't have money
Your homie caught them face shots so wasn't that funny
Kill them n****s fuck robbing, ain’t shit to jack from them
Hoodie up bounce out and then crack on them
They broke as fuck none of them n****s ever seen a roll
Rich Rapper iced up and I still keep pole
Neck worth a fortune you gon' die if you try to touch it
The Glock I got don't jam I'll crack in public

[Verse 1]
This a pistol in my pants you feel pressured up
You want survive try and slide come test your luck
Shoot a n***a in traffic catch road rage
Fresh skit we don't care nothin' 'bout them old days
I'm a thug, way too drippy when I show up
If there’s a n***a I don’t likе in this bitch we finna go up
Think with his dick send a bitch to get a low up
If you want to livе how I live get your dough up
I'm on that time I don’t think they want static
Up the smacker do 'em greezy in traffic
Send a shot 'cause that's the only way they gon’ learn
They ain't sliding I'm really trynna get it confirmed
They smoking mid they can't even afford no cookie
Inside out I'm doing skits in Milano hoodies
Ain't no semi-automatic the chops are fully
Fat cubans, fat blower, you'll never book me