Rich Homie Quan - Worship

I've been known, I love ya'll for this
I wouldn't wear it tho
I know father died,  mother died, got me?
130 the producer ayyy, Rich Homie Baby!

15 thousand will get your partner knocked off
16 thousand for them styled
Tailored car bombs
18, I was stealin' mama's money
Out her top drawer
I could not get knocked off
So, you know I had to grind
So my folks won't have to work not more
Still goin' in, made a promise
We wouldn't hurt no more
Goin' to church on Sundays
What you worship for?

I was in the court
They thought I wasn't gon' dip
Used to hide money at my mama's house
She didn't know it was in her crib
I can't give no fucks no more
I gotta tell them how I feel
I can't show no love no more
They gonna stab me once again
Family in my business tryna see
What I done spent
You can't offer me nothing and I
Don't need no new friends
I won't cover my tongue 'cause I
Don't care who I offend turn a L to a win
Turn a player to a pimp
Everything double G on my end
These bitches tryna cuddle me in my Benz
Niggas tryna break me knowing I won't bend
And I tell that's how the story goes
And I came here just to vent
And I hope you can understand
(What about the critics bro?)
I won't let 'em in

15 thousand will get your partner knocked off
16 thousand for them styled
Tailored car bombs
18, I was stealin' mama's money
Out her top drawer
I could not get knocked off
So, you know I had to grind
So my folks won't have to work not more
Still goin' in, made a promise
We wouldn't hurt no more
Goin' to church on Sundays
What you worship for?

Lie to me in my face
But why would you stab me in by back?
Prolly 'cause you thought I was dead
I resurrected, I'm back, hoe
Every time a bad bitch call
My problems call me back, though
A lot of y'all niggas bit into my swag
Prolly not dealing with that flow
A lot of y'all niggas sound like my son
Shoulda been calling me dad oh
(Rich Homie Baby)
Rumor has it that I fell off
Only thing I fell off was a basket
Plug tried to send the bails off
I had to tell him
"Don't send it to the mansion"
Your favorite rapper tried to steal the sauce
I got that nigga stealing in the pantry
At times I forget I done made it
Still got a million in the mansion
Still tryna make 'em understand
Lot of discretion but I gotta
Keep a country head
Never sell my soul for a bunch of bread

15 thousand will get your partner knocked off
16 thousand for them styled
Tailored car bombs
18, I was stealin' mama's money
Out her top drawer
I could not get knocked off
So, you know I had to grind
So my folks won't have to work not more
Still goin' in, made a promise
We wouldn't hurt no more
Goin' to church on Sundays
What you worship for?

You can't run from the truth shawdy
You feel me? I gotta be me
And fuck what anybody else think man
I'm back to having fun on you niggas

Written by:
DEQUANTES LAMAR, DERRICK MOODY

Publisher:
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, 1-30'S COALITION, Songtrust Ave

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