Poor Lil Rich - Album Version (Edited)

I let my watch talk for me, my whip talk for me My gat talk for me, baow, what up homie? My watch sayin', "Hi shorty we can be friends" (woo) My whip sayin', "Quit playin' bitch get in" My earring sayin', "We can hit the mall together" Shorty its only right that we ball together I'm into bigger things y'all niggas y'all know my style Ya wrist bling bling, my shit bling blaow My pinky ring talk it say, "50, I'm sick" That's why these niggas is on my dick Some hate me, some love my hits Flex my man he gon' bump my shit See I'm alive, man, I really don't care (I don't care) I tell them hoes whatever they want to hear You try and play me I'ma blaze it in My chromes cost more than the crib ya momma raised ya in I was a poor, nigga Now I'm a rich, nigga Gettin' paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga You can find me in the four-dot-six, nigga In the backseat fondlin' ya bitch, nigga I was a poor, nigga Now I'm a rich, nigga Gettin' paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga You can find me in the four-dot-six, nigga In the backseat fondlin' ya bitch, nigga New York niggas, cocky niggaz like it's all good Fuck around we Crip walkin' in the wrong hood I'm fresh up out the slammer, I ain't no fuckin' Bama I'm from the wild, woadie, but I know country grammar See me I get it crunk, niggas go head and front I go up out the trunk, come back, roll out I'm done (yeah) My money come in lumps, my pockets got the mumps You see me sittin' on dubs, that's why you mad chump Don't make me hit ya up, 50 Cent'll split ya up I lay you down, the coroners'll come and get ya up See 50 play for keeps, and 50 stay wit' heat I can't go commercial, they love me in the street I'm real gutter, man, the hood love me, man Don't make me show up in ya crib like bro-man Locked up in the pen, I still did my thing CO screamin', "Shut the fuck up," in the pen I was a poor, nigga Now I'm a rich, nigga Gettin' paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga You can find me in the four-dot-six, nigga In the backseat fondlin' ya bitch, nigga I was a poor, nigga Now I'm a rich, nigga Gettin' paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga You can find me in the four-dot-six, nigga In the backseat fondlin' ya bitch, nigga I'm in the Benz on Monday, the BM on Tuesday Range on Wednesday, Thursday I'm in the hooptie Porsche on Friday, I do things my way Vipe' or 'Vette, I tear up the highway Shorty she can tell ya about my dick game But she don't know me, she only know my nickname Left the hood and came back, damn, shit changed These young boys, they done got they own work, man I was a poor, nigga Now I'm a rich, nigga Gettin' paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga You can find me in the four-dot-six, nigga In the backseat fondlin' ya bitch, nigga I was a poor, nigga Now I'm a rich, nigga Gettin' paper now you can't tell me shit, nigga You can find me in the four-dot-six, nigga In the backseat fondlin' ya bitch, nigga