Rich and Flexxin (feat. Ludacris) - Waka Flocka Flame

6 fifteens, candy coated riding clean Every time I pull out a new whip I cause a scene Rolling through my hood, I told 'em pimpin' ain't that easy So whatever you need, little buddy, come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me Whatever you need, little buddy, come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me Whatever you need, little buddy, come and see me I'm talking Monte Carlos, Crown Vics, Cadillacs and Regals If I get pulled over, everything I got's illegal But I ain't got no worries I got Jesus riding shotgun Knowing that I need a meal ticket and I can't stop until I got one Shit, I'm whippin' cutty bubble bucket busty, bitches love to ride tooHanging out the window front and central like a late-night Wendy's drive through Tweeters, speakers, jeekers fiendin', diamond in the back my nigga I got two white girls, think I oughta have a curl in return of the mack, my nigga It's the return of the 'Lac Riding on so many horses they think I'm playing polo Candy paint drippin' like a Jheri curl, nigga, I'mma let my soul glo Fleet, flickin', screaming, bitches, pitchin', counter, past fate And all of the women get jealous cause of the way my car can make its ass shake Last to base, in the face The law's right beside me, my window tint, dawg My rims are too large As soon as I hit the back road bet the law can't find me Ridin', candy paint with two poles in the trunk Popped up twice with two hoes in the trunk Disturb your peace with fifteens that thump Duck my slab get sawed off with the pump 6 fifteens, candy coated riding clean Every time I pull out a new whip I cause a scene Rolling through my hood, I told 'em pimpin' ain't that easy So whatever you need, little buddy, come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me Whatever you need, little buddy, come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me Whatever you need, little buddy, come and see me I got two floors in my trunk, club lights in my trunk I charge at the door them hoes hit the floor, we have club nights in my trunk Cause it's an earthquake when I park, I keep a UFO in my yard My wheels so big when I swing my whip I can high five God, Lord I could skydive off of the top of the roof, rims taller than King Kong Riding around looking for an ass that I could sit my drink on My seats warm, my drink cold, my paint dry, but her mouth wet Suffocate that ho till that bitch look like Smurfette 007 pressin' more buttons, I got all these gadgets, ho I got all these alpine, it could turn a square chick ratchet, ho Neon lights shine neon bright that I could direct all this traffic, ho Young and wise my 9 to 5 would be a vortex if I crash it, ho Like a head on collision with a red bone mouth colder than Michigan Reach in that glove box and I got more rubbers than Michelin I'm feeling like Yao Ming in the whip (why?) I need more leg room So I hit a switch and the whole back seat turned into a god damn bedroom 6 fifteens, candy coated riding clean Every time I pull out a new whip I cause a scene Rolling through my hood, I told 'em pimpin' ain't that easy So whatever you need, little buddy, come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me Whatever you need, little buddy, come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me (Come and see me) Come and see me Whatever you need, little buddy, come and see me Okay now, ho, pour out that drinking watch me fire up that blunt Anybody getting outta line don't make me pop my fuckin' trunk Don't make you pop your fuckin' trunk? Don't make me pop my fuckin' trunk Anybody getting outta line don't make me pop my fuckin' trunk Okay, now bow down when you see me, don't be trippin' on the thump Anybody getting outta line don't make me pop my fuckin' trunk Don't make you pop your fuckin' trunk? Don't make me pop my fuckin' trunk Anybody getting outta line don't make me pop my fuckin' trunk Hold up

We got money in our pocket, and whatever you're sipping on Red-bottom limping around this bitch, what the fuck you tripping on? Twenty goons, they in this bitch, you better check your tone And they gon' put you back in place if you do something wrong We in this bitch (we in this bitch), yeah we in this bitch (yeah) We got a section full of girls and they barely speak any English Let's toast it up to that life and I mean it We in this bitch, we in this ho I got the .40 on me now, I'm worse than Plaxico Shout to Gangsta Gibbs, he the next to blow You should see my gangster grill, I light the shit from blow Snow ya car transforming, is it a transformer? You ever cook the whole thing on a George Foreman? What about a nine on the gas grill? Four-fifty for the zip, paid my gas bill So many horses in the 'rari, park it in the barn Took the ice up out my cup and put it in my charm And this bad bitch with me from another planet Stay on the satellite phone, man, I can't stand it Hey baby girl, hang the phone up No talking with your mouth full, you's a grown-up What the fuck? Who the hell? Flashback in this bitch, thought I seen a scale We got money in our pocket, and whatever you're sipping on Red-bottom limping around this bitch, what the fuck you tripping on? Twenty goons, they in this bitch, you better check your tone And they gon' put you back in place if you do something wrong We in this bitch (we in this bitch), yeah we in this bitch (yeah) We got a section full of girls and they barely speak any English Let's toast it up to that life and I mean it You know how we handle shit, gangster gutter glamorous Zone One Atlanta shit, over all the amateurs I'm walking off in here, a boss so, dog, approach with caution though Disrespect is tolerated, that's some shit you ought to know Niggas say they ball, yeah, but I'm balling harder though Cold as the nose on a Appalachian Eskimo It finna go down, ho, popping bottles, drown hoes Paid niggas with us, ain't no broke niggas around so Excuse me, who is he? I don't do this usually But I'm too fresh to fight, somebody go and get security I'm buying this, buying that, getting that check and flyin jet Boucheron, Constantine, Puff like, where you find that? American at the nature, boy, a lot of nigga hate your boy Pocket full of money, got more paper than a paperboy Hoes jocking, on Twitter trending topic Future, Jeezy, Cris, and Drama Tip say, let's go get it popping We got money in our pocket, and whatever you're sipping on Red-bottom limping around this bitch, what the fuck you tripping on? Twenty goons, they in this bitch, you better check your tone And they gon' put you back in place if you do something wrong We in this bitch (we in this bitch), yeah we in this bitch (yeah) We got a section full of girls and they barely speak any English Let's toast it up to that life and I mean it I'm popping plenty bottles, like I got plenty bricks Call me Mr. Marcus, I'm in this bitch Super drink, super smoke and some super hoes VIP looking like we won the fucking Superbowl Thirsty chicks trying to give it, I don't want it You been in more laps than the Indy 500 Conjure's what we drinking, faded till the world end Never see me planking, unless I'm on your girlfriend Ludacris, I been a staple in this Southern game Got the best lines, so I guess I'm slinging Southern caine My money's louder, you rappers need to hush more My presidents rock, my accounts are Mount Rushmore On the island and my phone is hitting dead spots Altoid can of blue pills, that's my X-box You could hate, you could diss, you could make a wish But eight albums, and Luda's still in this bitch

C-L-A-Y-T-O-N till I die H-S-T till I die Sell that weed till I die Move that crack till I die Claim southside till I die Till I die I ain't gon' lie, I ain't gon' lie (Flocka) C-L-A-Y-T-O-N till I die H-S-T till I die Sell that weed till I die Move that crack till I die Claim southside till I die Till I die I ain't gon' lie, I ain't gon' lie (Flocka) Super stupid swag, you can call me Argentina Run up on Flocka, homie got that Nina I will burn you, boy, I'm not playin', boy You know 'bout me, boy, built to destroy So Icey Army-slash-Navy-slash-Marine boys We got hella guns, we got hella Bloods We got hella Crips, we got hella Kings We got hella folks, niggas sell coke Some sell pills, others sell weed We got what you need, and we work them M's bitch The bitches drilled him; hoes killed him Ask about Flocka, all the girls feel him And they film him, yes, they love him But they dirty, you can't really trust them Niggas at your front, niggas at your back door They even at your window, heard you got that kinfolk (Flocka) C-L-A-Y-T-O-N till I die H-S-T till I die Sell that weed till I die Move that crack till I die Claim southside till I die Till I die I ain't gon' lie, I ain't gon' lie (Flocka) C-L-A-Y-T-O-N till I die H-S-T till I die Sell that weed till I die Move that crack till I die Claim southside till I die Till I die I ain't gon' lie, I ain't gon' lie (Flocka) All I need is weed; all I need is coke All I ask for one thing: Hit Squad boys to never go broke Clayco let my niggas go, free my nigga Kebo Free my nigga Gucci, So Icey, niggas tryna stick me? Just because I'm icey? Boy, that's your life, G Dick me and pipe me? Naw, that's unlikely The Dale (Ain't gon' have that) Campbellton Road (Ain't gon' have that) Boulder Park (Ain't gon' have that) Morrow (Ain't gon' have that) Mount Zion (Ain't gon' have that) North Joy (Ain't gon' have that) Tara Blvd. (Ain't gon' have that) Upper Dale (Ain't gon' have that) The Hill (Ain't gon' have that) Point South (Ain't gon' have that) Jonesboro (Ain't gon' have that) So Icey (Ain't gon' have that) Westside (Ain't gon' have that) Eastside (Ain't gon' have that) Northside (Ain't gon' have that) Southside (Ain't gon' have that) Think about what you do if you run up on me Think about what you do if you run up on me Flocka! C-L-A-Y-T-O-N till I die H-S-T till I die Sell that weed till I die Move that crack till I die Claim southside till I die Till I die I ain't gon' lie, I ain't gon' lie (Flocka) C-L-A-Y-T-O-N till I die H-S-T till I die Sell that weed till I die Move that crack till I die Claim southside till I die Till I die I ain't gon' lie, I ain't gon' lie (Flocka)

KG gonna trouble you Accountant still ain't got caught cheating Chasin' dreams, shaking off demons The other side get the worst treatment Fall through my marriage, tell me won't leave me Shit hard right now, going through it Shit hard right now, going through it Fell out with my dawg over music Hundred mil', I'm walking to it They like, "Don't retire, we love your music When your new shit drop, we gon' turn up to it Burn a 'Wood to it, we gon' trap to it Party hard music, get drunk to it" Girls fixin' makeup in the mirror to it All the athletes walking out to it World my music, worldwide music Upper echelon, G5 music Reload DJ Tiny, man, we in this motherfucker, man Squad, baow, baow, baow Accountant still ain't got caught cheating Chasin' dreams, shaking off demons The other side get the worst treatment Fall through my marriage, tell me won't leave me Shit hard right now, going through it Shit hard right now, going through it Fell out with my dawg over music Hundred mil', I'm walking to it They like, "Don't retire, we love your music When your new shit drop, we gon' turn up to it Burn a 'Wood to it, we gon' trap to it Party hard music, get drunk to it" Girls fixin' makeup in the mirror to it All the athletes walking out to it World my music, worldwide music Upper echelon, G5 music How could I leave y'all back like that without one more? Y'all was with me every show, all around the globe Every minute in the studio, fans Y'all became my best friends, this is God's plan Y'all encouraged me to be woke, encouraged me to eat right Y'all energy kept me afloat Y'all stuck with me through my marriage Y'all was with me wrong or right Y'all was with me all the way, how could I throw that away? How could I forget them lonely Nights starving, y'all put food on my plate I was in a lonely place, y'all showed me a way Y'all told me keep making music, boy, put down that dirty K I listened to every word, now I showed my whole hood the way Flocka Accountant still ain't got caught cheating Chasin' dreams, shaking off demons The other side get the worst treatment Fall through my marriage, tell me won't leave me Shit hard right now, going through it Shit hard right now, going through it Fell out with my dawg over music Hundred mil', I'm walking to it They like, "Don't retire, we love your music When your new shit drop, we gon' turn up to it Burn a 'Wood to it, we gon' trap to it Party hard music, get drunk to it" Girls fixin' makeup in the mirror to it All the athletes walking out to it World my music, worldwide music Upper echelon, G5 music My first time in the booth Swear to God, they start laughing at me I ain't give a damn, I was rappin' tacky Six months later, had my first show And I ain't never look back, nine summers in a row I brought Chaz and Dunk to every show Them So Icey Boys, niggas know I'm talkin' Wooh, French, and Juiceman Guc' fresh out in the Mulsanne I'm on the side in that Ghost, mane Bricksquad, we run the game Them Bricksquad niggas run the game The ego kicked in with the fame Guc' and Juice started beefin' Wooh and Frenchie barely rappin' Where that left me, where that left me? Stuck in the ghetto with all of my niggas Every concert, I brought all my niggas Jumping in the crowd, acting wild, young niggas We was chasing our dream, we ain't never had shit Came from the bottom, now all of us rich Diamonds gon' glist' on our neck and our wrists You niggas know y'all not living like this, squad Accountant still ain't got caught cheating Chasin' dreams, shaking off demons The other side get the worst treatment Fall through my marriage, tell me won't leave me Shit hard right now, going through it Shit hard right now, going through it Fell out with my dawg over music Hundred mil', I'm walking to it They like, "Don't retire, we love your music When your new shit drop, we gon' turn up to it Burn a 'Wood to it, we gon' trap to it Party hard music, get drunk to it" Girls fixin' makeup in the mirror to it All the athletes walking out to it World my music, worldwide music Upper echelon, G5 music

I been workin' nigga Cocaina, she be flirting nigga Back my 'Rari out the driveway 500 pounds, 200 squares, John Gotti I been workin' nigga Cocaina, she be flirting nigga I back my 'Rari out the driveway 500 pounds, 200 squares, John Gotti Piss ass nigga you ain't never drunk I'm a real Piru, ask Big Suge I'm a real trapper, ask Victor Hill For the thrill, I pop a pill, shoot at the ops to catch a kill (Hey) I'm Waka Flocka, nigga Kill a family member, shawty El Chapo nigga Throw your sets in the air for my blockas nigga Two shots of the [?] that go Flocka nigga I'm on the block my nigga Where the youngins going crazy, shooting cops my nigga Red, blue, white flags like a Haitian killer I will never back down, I'm from Clayco nigga I been workin' nigga Cocaina, she be flirting nigga Back my 'Rari out the driveway 500 pounds, 200 squares, John Gotti I been workin' nigga Cocaina, she be flirting nigga I back my 'Rari out the driveway 500 pounds, 200 squares, John Gotti A lot of rappers start trapping it's like recess Real jet boy I snatch the chain off your neck Set the game for you niggas, that's a preset Elm Street, Dirt Gang nigga that's the G set I'm like Meech, my nigga Bricksquad live off loyalty, fuck you niggas Waka Flocka name still good in these streets Five thousand shooters nigga, you ain't hard to reach When it come to killers, got a fleet my nigga Pull a chopper out, holes in your fleece my nigga I know you thinking to yourself I'm a beast, my nigga Hundred shootouts, we ain't never faced defeat, my nigga I been workin' nigga Cocaina, she be twerking nigga Back my 'Rari out the driveway 500 pounds, 200 squares, John Gotti I been workin' nigga Cocaina, she be flirting nigga I back my 'Rari out the driveway 500 pounds, 200 squares, John Gotti Check his background, he ain't who he say he is Acting hard to them youngins, come shoot up your shit Boy I must admit a lot of rap Early in the morning and my dog baking cookies John Gotti Wish he try me, cross the line, you a body nigga Go against Waka Flocka, kamikaze Hands like I'm Ali, south side where you find me Heard they trying to take me off the streets, my nigga Pussy niggas snitching, talking to police my nigga Now the feds tryna kick in my front door I got lawyer fees, burn money, case closed (Flocka) I been workin' nigga Cocaina, she be flirting nigga Back my 'Rari out the driveway 500 pounds, 200 squares, John Gotti I been workin' nigga Cocaina, she be flirting nigga I back my 'Rari out the driveway 500 pounds, 200 squares, John Gotti