Rico (feat. Frank Ocean)

We in the studio
I said, we in the studio
Is this mic on? Check, check

I'm thankful for my position I was given in life
Cause I know some people living who ain't living this life
Read about starved children who ain't eating this right
Drug lords declare war, selling cheaper the price
Stunting dummy drug money, yeah them sneakers is nice
Get your swag from the blacks selling bags of the white
Niggas can't get a job, so we self-employed
If the coppers come a-knocking, we gon' help that boy
Bail money, welcome back home out of jail money
White girl pale money, sunny when we sell money
See seashell money, we sell money
Rain, hail money, heaven what the hell money
Dusty paper, stale money, I thought they restricted it
Did for most people but we out here getting it

Bunch of hands under her dress, we get the feeling that she's faded
And she's willing screaming Wolf Gang, whip me off, get me off
The sex, it turns to children, then the children turn to villains
Villain wolves screaming kill them all, fuck 'em all
And that go for anybody that come around here, that ain't from around here
Ho, you too, you ain't special, Wolf Gang kill them all, fuck 'em all

She handles herself with class
She got a nice ass but she can't run no games on me
She claim to like the stores and the clothes
Jeans bleached with the holes, but she can't get my bank homie
Too smart is no good, if she smart for no good
It's so good, she can't flaunt her thing on me
She can be full of swag, drive a Jag
Poppin' tags on the Ave but she can't get her cake from me
That sounded like the hook I threw at her and the swag I reeled her in
Said she came to feel me in, when she really came to fill me in
Like baby what's the deal with it? Seem to be attracted
By the fiancee and finance that no wifey concealin' it
Dealin' with life's shuffle, then fold
Dippin' with the duffles I hold, if we are a couple, let's go
To the place where we lead in the life to some sleep
Bring the pipe, blow the weed, punchlines to be received

Bunch of hands under her dress, we get the feeling that she's faded
And she's willing screaming Wolf Gang, whip me off, get me off
The sex, it turns to children, then the children turn to villains
Villain wolves screaming kill them all, fuck 'em all
And that go for anybody that come around here, that ain't from around here
Ho, you too, you ain't special, Wolf Gang kill them all, fuck 'em all



Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Breaux, Gerald Long, Vyron Turner
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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