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Poor Lil Rich
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Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
50 Cent
50 Cent
Voix principales
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Claviers
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Michael Clervoix III
Michael Clervoix III
Paroles/Composition
Curtis James Jackson
Curtis James Jackson
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Sha Money XL
Sha Money XL
Production
Eminem
Eminem
Ingénierie de mixage
Carlisle Young
Carlisle Young
Ingénierie de prise de son
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
Production déléguée
Steve King
Steve King
Ingénierie de mixage

Paroles

I let my watch talk for me, my whip talk for me My gat talk for me, BOW! What up homie My watch saying hi shorty we can be friends My whip saying quit playing bitch get in My earring saying we can hit the mall together Shorty its only right that we ball together I'm into bigger things ya niggaz ya know my style Ya wrist bling bling, my shit bling blow My pinky ring talk it say fifty I'm sick That's why these niggaz is on my dick Some hate me, some love my hits Flex my man he gon bump my shit See I'm alive man I really don't care I tell them hoes whatever they wanna hear You try and play me I'ma blaze it in My chromes cost more than the crib ya momma raised ya in I was a poor nigga Now I'm a rich nigga Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga I was a poor nigga Now I'm a rich nigga Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga New York niggaz, copy niggaz like it's all good Fuck around we crip-walking in the wrong hood I'm fresh up out the slammer, I ain't no fucking bama I'm from the wild whody, but I know country grammar See me I get it crunk, niggaz go head and front I go up out the trunk, come back, rollout I'm done (yeah) My money come in lumps, my pockets got the mumps You see me sitting on dubs, that's why u mad chump Don't make me hit ya up, 50 cent will split ya up I lay you down, them carnids will come and get ya up See 50 play fa keeps, and 50 stay wit heat I can't go commercial, they love me in the street I'm real bloody man, the hood love me man Don't make me show up in ya crib like bro-man Locked up in a pen, I still do my thing C-O screaming shut the fuck up in the pen I was a poor nigga Now I'm a rich nigga Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga I was a poor nigga Now I'm a rich nigga Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga I'm in the Benz on Monday, the BM on Tuesday Range on Wednesday, Thursday I'm in the hooptay Porsche on Friday, I do things my way Vipe or Vette, I tear up the highway Shorty she can tell ya about my dick game But she don't know me, she only know my nickname Left the hood and came back, damn shit changed These young boys, they done got they own work man I was a poor nigga Now I'm a rich nigga Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga I was a poor nigga Now I'm a rich nigga Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga
Writer(s): Curtis James Jackson, Michael J. Clervoix Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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