From Broke To Rich lyrics

[Intro]
Ayy
Broke to rich
If you ain't with us, you against us
Look

[Verse]
Bust heads, bust checks, bust scripts
I been riding with a thirty in the clip
If you run up on me wrong, I'ma trip
It's a cold day in hell If a n*gga ever slip, goddamn
Sagging through the West, we the best, f*ck the rest, ayy
Comptown tatted on my chest, don't flex
I know a couple n*ggas that'll test
If you riding through the section, you better ride with a vest
Let me tell you how a n*gga went broke to rich
If a n*gga get low, sh*t, I gotta hit a lick
I just popped another Perc' so I gotta hit a b*tch
sh*t, I'm tryna get rich and get a down ass b*tch
I been trappin' ten summers, sh*t, I feel like Lenny
I just slid down the 'Brans with a big ass semi
I'm a real ass n*gga, it ain't on me, it's in me
I was 7 years old tryna tote with a billy
I was 16, kicking in doors for the chili
If you thought that I was broke, Mr. Mosely, you silly
Heard a couple n*ggas looking, if you want me, then get me
And if you thinking that you tough, come spend a day in the Phillies
I just poured a deuce with Mari, now we swervin' and swangin'
Tryna catch a n*gga slippin', better watch where you hangin'
If you don't know where you at, you better watch what you sayin'
I'm from where young n*ggas die and they ain't even bangin'
Goddamn, I just got off the phone with my lil' bro
Called my phone trippin' 'bout a bird ass ho
I told the n*gga f*ck that b*tch, go get dough
If a n*gga get broke, sh*t, I gotta kick a door
Goddamn, ayy JR, this beat really slap, bro
If a n*gga trippin' on you, I'ma slap bro
Just give it time and we really finna stack dough
And if I go broke, sh*t, I'm back to flipping packs, bro
Ayy, my name ring bells, they know Riche$
And a couple n*ggas know me 'cause I'm f*cking with they b*tches
All you n*ggas is Ricos, I only f*ck with Mitchs
And I only f*ck with b*tches that be running up the digits
Ayy, ayy, play on the phone, I gotta make that
If you playin' with my chili, gotta take that
I just ran up in the house, where your safe at?
I'm in the land where you know that it ain't safe at
Ayy, I just turnt some Louboutins to some play shoes
I know his homie say they homies but he hate dude
I'm just poured off a deuce, no, I ain't rude
Touching cups, that's the type of sh*t you can't do
Ayy, I be hanging with real killers and bangers
Your homies is all strangers, so tell 'em that they in danger
'Cause if I don't say sh*t, sh*t, the homie gon' bust one
And all them n*ggas that you with, he gon' touch one