Lemonade Songtext

DDG

von Blame The Chat

Lemonade Songtext
(Hey, I'm really Rich)

We do that shit, they imitate, he a bitch, he been a fake
Wiz high as shit, he just stuffed a paper with an eighth
Yellow-gold Cuban, it look like I got on lemonade
I just hit the blunt, I forgot what I was finna say, fuck
Okay, now I remember, hmm, I'm eatin' lettuce for dinner
I know I'm the biggest, I feel like the center
I got that lil' bitch on my wood, she ridin' that shit, she might get her a splinter
Ain't worried 'bout shit, bitch, I'm good, I'm movin' too tech, I'm not a beginner, okay, okay

Pull up, got all tens, I got a bag, I spend
Her lease is up, I'm askin' her where she gon' go, she said my skin
I'm fuckin' with London, I'm lovin' them women out there, bitches tens
I'm riskin' my life for the pussy, I'm somewhere in Brixton, in the ends, okay
She wanna link, but I'm booked 'til May
I been turnt since a teen, I don't age
I run up the racks, I spend and get right back, I just got paid
She cannot adapt, I'm too turnt up to the max, I'm in that phase

We do that shit, they imitate, he a bitch, he been a fake
Wiz high as shit, he just stuffed a paper with an eighth
Yellow-gold Cuban, it look like I got on lemonade
I just hit the blunt, I forgot what I was finna say, fuck
Okay, now I remember, hmm, I'm eatin' lettuce for dinner
I know I'm the biggest, I feel like the center
I got that lil' bitch on my wood, she ridin' that shit, she might get her a splinter
Ain't worried 'bout shit, bitch, I'm good, I'm movin' too tech, I'm not a beginner

My cars are bigger, my broads are thicker
I stay on my dogs, so don't make me sick 'em
I roll me one up and another one quicker
I came here with one, leave with somethin' that's different
You niggas my sons, so you gotta be kiddin', my lighter keep flickin'
My money gets up and you walk around broke, but you not even injured
Been out here runnin' for fifteen years plus and I'm not even finished
Too many cars from my garage and my house isn't listed
I'm gettin' lifted, come see Khalifa, man, that's a pound gifted
Another three million, that's just the flight, gettin' an out-of-town visit

We do that shit, they imitate, he a bitch, he been a fake
Wiz high as shit, he just stuffed a paper with an eighth
Yellow-gold Cuban, it look like I got on lemonade
I just hit the blunt, I forgot what I was finna say, fuck
Okay, now I remember, hmm, I'm eatin' lettuce for dinner
I know I'm the biggest, I feel like the center
I got that lil' bitch on my wood, she ridin' that shit, she might get her a splinter
Ain't worried 'bout shit, bitch, I'm good, I'm movin' too tech, I'm not a beginner, okay, okay