Testo Only Child - Rich Homie Quan
Testo della canzone Only Child (Rich Homie Quan), tratta dall'album Coma
Stayin' down, ran it up a mile (Ran it up a mile)
Gettin' money like the only child (I love my mama)
Go to jail, beat yo momma down
I can't fuck with them, I know they kind
Overtime what I been puttin' in for that paper
No more more strugglin, grindin',
Girl, I been sweatin' hard from that paper
I been sippin' lean, fuckin' them baddies, and I been faithful, nigga
Every time I hit the scene,
Gotta be clean, and I gotta make a major statement
They love to form against me 'cause I got weapons
I told her fuck me like I gotta turn myself in
I ate my first plate and I came back for seconds
All of my niggas stick together like we X-Men
Gun got two names, Smith & Wesson
Grab a strap to hit it hard, I'ma get the FN
Security ain't pat me down, Almost got the TEC in
Fuck around and beat you down like I'm playin' Tekken
All of these sacrifices I made were for me and you
I'm in love with money, so it's hard to be with you
I held it down, did my part, but you ain't hold your end
And I know that bankroll get flimsy,
But I won't fold nor bend, no (Rich Homie, baby)
Stayin' down, ran it up a mile (Ran it up a mile)
Gettin' money like the only child (I love my mama)
Go to jail, beat yo momma down
I can't fuck with them, I know they kind
Overtime what I been puttin' in for that paper
No more more strugglin, grindin',
Girl, I been sweatin' hard from that paper
I been sippin' lean, fuckin' them baddies, and I been faithful, nigga
Every time I hit the scene,
Gotta be clean, and I gotta make a major statement
Remember hustlin' hard when i was small time
No discrepancy on money, we like all kinds
Suckin' dick too much fucked up your jawline
We gotta stay equipped for when them cars chase
Catch that boy in public, hit him broad day
Trick him like them fishy boy, they all bait
I can eat him plain, cooked, or sautéed
Now, we eatin' shrimp mixed with lo mein
They don't even know what I've been through
Plus, I don't talk about it
When we get to talkin' 'bout money
They wanna talk around it
30 thousand to the shooter
Now his shirt gotta stain
Keeping that dirt off my name
I never thought I'd make it out the hood, no
Stayin' down, ran it up a mile (Ran it up a mile)
Gettin' money like the only child (I love my mama)
Go to jail, beat yo momma down
I can't fuck with them, I know they kind
Overtime what I been puttin' in for that paper
No more more strugglin, grindin',
Girl, I been sweatin' hard from that paper
I been sippin' lean, fuckin' them baddies, and I been faithful, nigga
Every time I hit the scene,
Gotta be clean, and I gotta make a major statement
Credits
Writer(s): Adam Malka, Russell William Howard, Jaime Antonio Villalvazo Jr.
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