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lirik lagu rich sport – spliffjit

[intro]
d*mn, sh*t
(ayy, 40, what that is?)
this some real pyrex sh*t, you know (spliffjit, the real)
(d. major, baby)
i’m in this b*tch with 1040, man (dig what i’m sayin’?)
you dig what i’m sayin’?
major (n*gga)

[verse 1]
this a rich sport, we got rich cash
i got pots, bend a fork, make my wrist splash
he be so quick to snort, call it quick cash
i put christian, fendi, gg on my b*tch ass
i need twenty for these bricks, you can’t even get mad
i need twenty for these bricks ’cause this sh*t glass
ran it up, i ain’t even worried ’bout what a b*tch had
ran it up and left that ho because the b*tch sad
we got dirty sticks and we got ounces of that yay*yay
up this b*tch and hit, it came with kick, i made ’em fade away
stood up on that block and slung a rock, that’s how i made a way
hangin’ with some hustlers, tell them f*ck n*ggas to stay away
i’ma spend that check, you bеtter know, i gotta pay to play
junkie hit that stimmy, call back evеry time i make a play
keep ’em out your business, move in silence, that’s a safer way
systematic life, that’s how i move to keep them jakes away
[chorus]
real pot scr*per
tryna run up me a check, ho, i’m a real guap chaser
i ain’t even tryna have no s*x unless the b*tch got paper
if i’m f*ckin’ or i’m trappin’, they know jit drop gator
with bro layin’ on that car, somehow this sh*t got major
real pot scr*per
tryna run up me a check, ho, i’m a real guap chaser
i ain’t even tryna have no s*x unless the b*tch got paper
if i’m f*ckin’ or i’m trappin’, they know jit drop gator
with bro layin’ on that car, somehow this sh*t got major

[verse 2]
real trap sh*t, we beat the ‘bows in this house
real trap spot, it ain’t no hoes in this house
don’t think a n*gga slippjn’, we got poles in this house
and we don’t do no snitchin’, we put holes in a mouse
uh, systematic, n*gga, we got goals in this house
uh, grandma, i remember we had mold in the house
i used to hide my pistol in the hole in the couch
i always cook my crack when i’m alone in the house
uh, clack, clack, clack, that’s the sound of the drop
i know how many grams by the sound of the pop
they blowin’ up my phone, that’s the sound of the top
and if they ever played, they heard the sound of the mop
don’t play with a police, don’t f*ck around with the cops
it’s f*ck the other side, we puttin’ down on the opps
them n*ggas ain’t for real, he just a clown with a glock
if he ain’t stackin’ up, he just a clown with a c*ck
[chorus]
real pot scr*per
tryna run up me a check, ho, i’m a real guap chaser
i ain’t even tryna have no s*x unless the b*tch got paper
if i’m f*ckin’ or i’m trappin’, they know jit drop gator
with bro layin’ on that car, somehow this sh*t got major
real pot scr*per
tryna run up me a check, ho, i’m a real guap chaser
i ain’t even tryna have no s*x unless the b*tch got paper
if i’m f*ckin’ or i’m trappin’, they know jit drop gator
with bro layin’ on that car, somehow this sh*t got major

[outro]
n*gga
spliffjit, the real
you know
uh

- spliffjit

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