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mr. pay for shit (remix) - real boston richey lyrics

[intro: bendadonnn]
like, boss, i ain’t gon’, i ain’t gon’ do to much boppin’ (hah)
you know what i’m sayin’? i go straight at a b*tch like
look, i’m havin’ that cash (right)
if you wanna f*ck with a boss, you can do that (right)
it’s a whole bunch of, you know what i’m sayin’, lame n*ggas doin’ they thing over here, but we ain’t f*ckin’ with them n*ggas
like, i’ll tell a ho straight up
if i ain’t got an m in my cash app, ho, you can slap me in my face, real talk (known to let the mac fly just like my n*gga doe)
that’s how i’m poppin’ it, let’s go

[refrain: real boston richey & bendadonnn]
uh*huh, we ready, uh, we ready (yeah)
we ready, uh, we ready (let’s go)
we ready, uh, uh, we ready
we ready, uh, we ready (yeah, yeah)

[verse 1: real boston richey & bendadonnn]
i’m like oh my f*ckin’ god, hmm
this b*tch thicker than a bеnz, the maybach truck in my garage, hmm
that n*gga ain’t on sh*t, i’ll give you 5k to comе outside, ayy
she cool with f*ckin’ a lame, tried to boss her up, on god, i tried
tryna retire her out the strip club if she ask what’s on my mind, hmm (yup)
every time we hit the strip club, we throwin’ ones
we got drake on speed dial, with bendadonnn and we got funds (yeah)
all these thick red b*tches in the strip club like j mulan
all this money i’m havin’, it’s impossible just to go and f*ck on one (ayy)
i need two (ayy), i need three (ayy), i need four bad b*tches
i need five, i need six, i need seven bad b*tches
i need eight, i need nine, i need ten bad b*tches
[interlude: real boston richey & bendadonnn]
i ain’t gon’ lie, man, ben, let me you ask you somethin’, man (what’s up, bro?)
from sh*t popper to sh*t popper, right? (yup)
i ain’t gon’ lie (talk to me)
i’m the type of n*gga, i feel like i’ll go broke on a bad b*tch, like
i’ll take my shoes off and make this b*tch walk with me barefoot while i’m barefoot just so she can walk in my shoes, what you think? (i stamp it, n*gga, yeah)
that’s just the type of n*gga i am, like, n*ggas make it seem like i’m a simp, like
i’m a— i’m just doin’ whatever for a bad b*tch, uh, uh (me too)

[verse 2: real boston richey & bendadonnn]
excuse me, baby girl, how you doin’? i’m mr. pay for sh*t (yeah)
he told you wait ’til friday, over here, you ain’t gotta wait for sh*t
it’s that time of the month, just go back home, baby, you ain’t missin’ sh*t
private strip club at your crib, this all for you, throwin’ dog sh*t (let’s go)
i like short b*tches (yeah), brown and red and even like tall sh*t
whether she asian and persuasion, i don’t give a f*ck, they all hit
we might f*ck from time to time, but that’s on god, that’s y’all b*tch
she finna blow my mind, she don’t need a pole, she doin’ wall splits (yeah)
this trip can’t meet the group chat, you better not speak on sh*t we done
what the f*ck is that? oh my god, he broke, you better run
hmm, hmm, now stop and do the running man
run from that brokie, run, run, do the running man (yeah)

[refrain: real boston richey & bendadonnn]
uh*huh, we ready, uh, we ready (yeah)
we ready, uh, we ready (let’s go)
we ready, uh, uh, we ready
we ready, uh, we ready (yeah)
[outro: real boston richey & bendadonnn]
just to go and f*ck on one
i need two, i need three, i need four bad b*tches
i need five, i need six, i need seven bad b*tches
i need eight, i need nine, i need ten bad b*tches (let’s go)
uh
yeah
we ready, uh, we ready (let’s go)
we ready, uh, we ready (yeah, yeah)

- real boston richey lyrics

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