Текст пісні Rich Problems - Dave east

Rich Problems

I’m having rich nigga problems
Straight jacket crazy
Might end up in that asylum
Think I’m always in a good mood
You see me smiling
Little devil on my shoulder and he wilding
Rich nigga problems
Bank account great
My homies dying
Your bitch don’t know you trying
Everything you say you lying
Honor and defiance
I never rolled with the masses
Fuck viral
This flow a virus
I got the touch of Midas
One eye open like a pirate
Like my living private
That Hollywood shit I tried it when I got invited
When they in that dark space they try to soak your light up
Headlines talking down on you in like every write up
I might just confide in a priest
I feel like Pac in '93
I stay away from suckas
Pops got diabetes
It’s dying season
Momma crying season
I escaped the comma after comma season
Died without a reason
Who gon explain that to your mother while she Go Fund you
She cooking dinners for the block somehow she go hungry
Appetite fucked up
Can’t even eat
Body tight
Both eyes heavy
Can’t even sleep
Youngin wasn’t too high to swing
Just out of reach
The way the Lord speak through my lyrics you think I preach
Rich nigga problems get tricky
They think you sleep
Rich nigga problems
I got a
with Meech
Jamaica Avenue got my sneaks
Thinking of the gangstas that died that I got to meet
Thinking of the times when I hustled
I couldn’t breathe
I got a homie only deal with white
I call him Bleach
He started getting work out in Memphis
I called him Bleek
The biggest out the two niggas with em
I called him sheek
Maleaka called him freaky
Other niggas called him Lique
Real nigga problems
I still see him in my sleep
I’m having rich nigga problems
They say money is the root of evil
I seen what it do to people
They told me money is the root of evil
I seen what it do to people
Money is the root of evil
I’m having rich nigga problems
Taking trips with a stylist
Givenchy or Celine I can’t decide
I’m getting higher
These shrooms up in my body got me talking to Elijah Muhammad
Ask him what happened to Malcolm
Just be honest
Our forefathers had more problems than we could handle
Just trynna set examples
Every corner I see candles
Murals on the wall of my store
Really been poor
Black king feel like a Moor
Mansa Musa
I’m the one that introduced your wife to Kama Sutra
Have her screaming hallelujah
God bless her soul
Like beach chairs
Watch niggas fold
Like momma with my clothes
The task force out on a Tuesday
You thinking tacos
Cali cartel
Fuck jail
I feel like Pacho
Never speak a word like you Pablo and I’m Gustavo
Crib out in the burbs so my daughters don’t see no potholes
Since a snot nose I wanted rich nigga problems
Familiar with the broke ones
Bitches I done choked some
Rich nigga problems
TMZ just want a story
Drink Champs twisted
Got me telling shit to NORE
A lot of fake love
Fell back when I dropped Corey
Problems of a rich nigga
Broke niggas bore me
With coke aunty saw me
My ghosts niggas haunt me
Tears dropping down my face
Kobe in the car seat
Kairi want the world
And I don’t care bout what it cost me
They say money is the root of evil
I seen what it do to people
They told me money is the root of evil
I seen what it do to people
They say money is the root of evil