Home Song Lyrics Rich The Kid – Mo Paper Lyrics ft YG

Rich The Kid – Mo Paper Lyrics ft YG

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Rich The Kid – Mo Paper Lyrics ft YG

Mo Paper by  feat .

[Intro – Rich the Kid]
Yeah, you know what I’m saying?
Can’t never switch, huh
Ooh, ayy, any, huh

[Hook/Chorus – Rich the Kid]
You ain’t a you can’t touch
I might just paint the Bentley mustard
I got rich, that’s on my mother
Say she love you, still can’t trust her
Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it
But my frames, they Dior, I can’t see baby
Why your boyfriend a lame? I got mo’ paper
Bring the money out now, I got mo’ haters

[Verse 1 – Rich the Kid]
Where my stash box? Bring the racks out
Watch your bad bop “Bad”
I blew that cash out “Cash, what”
Yah, ayy, ran my money up
Now I got mo’ haters “I got mo’ papers”
B—–s wanna f–k ’cause I got mo’ papers
Now I Speed Race, I want more face
My b—h bake the cake, I might slide the Wraith
Hermès links, check the slink
Chanel when she blink, she want that ‘Rari pink “Skrrt, skrrt”

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[Hook/Chorus – Rich the Kid]
You ain’t a boss you can’t touch her
I might just paint the Bentley mustard
I got rich, that’s on my mother
Say she love you, still can’t trust her
Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it
But my frames, they Dior, I can’t see baby
Why your boyfriend a lame? I got mo’ paper
Bring the money out now, I got mo’ haters

[Verse 2 – YG]
I need the bag fast, fast, fast, fast “Fast”
Pulled up, Lambo, n—-s mad, mad, mad, mad “N—-s mad”
Saint Laurent, hard bottoms, splash, splash, splash “Splash”
You might slip on a drip, you might need the cash
I painted my 6-4 red, a lot of my homies dead
Some of my homies Blue, a lot of my homies Red
On Bloods, I need that head, I’m trying to feel it in my legs
I’m trying to spend a little bread, f–k it up at Sakks, yeah
All my b—–s drive Benz, I’ll put you in a Benz
All my hoes conniving, they finesse them M’s
Rich n—a slide in, oh yeah, yeah she did
Before you f–k me, give that p—y a cleanse, yeah

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[Hook/Chorus – Rich the Kid]
You ain’t a boss you can’t touch her
I might just paint the Bentley mustard
I got rich, that’s on my mother
Say she love you, still can’t trust her
Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it
But my frames, they Dior, I can’t see baby
Why your boyfriend a lame? I got mo’ paper
Bring the money out now, I got mo’ haters

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