Young, Rich, and Famous

Yuh (Yuh, yuh, yuh)

Yuh (Yuh, yuh, yuh)

Why the fuck not, nigga?

I'm in this shit, why not go hard?

It don't make sense not to






Look, I be hoppin' on stages

Drinkin' champagne with a flock of bad bitches and some niggas I was raised with

How every step the topic of they conversation?

Buncha miserable ass broke niggas, jealous 'cause we made it

Young, rich, and famous plus I'm handsome and I'm faded

I'm just climbin' up this ladder that my swagger has created it

My intelligence has got them so intimidated

Really thought I would listen to that bullshit you was sayin'?

Ride solo in my two-door with my top off with the tag

A marathon, that Crenshaw crew, nigga, it's a knock-off

When we started, he pinned us

No label ain't gon' stop us, I'm in Rothen off of Slauson

I made all my partners profit, look

I'm tatted from my face to my foot

So my body read like a good book

And, honestly, that fire weed keep my mind cooked

Takin' trips type of shit, usually keep a dime hooked

Pussy super good, go that sleepin' side grip

Ass pokin' out them pockets with that she is fly stitch

I'd rather be your nigga, she'd rather be my bitch

But no emotions 'cause we both is busy focused on the grip

Real shit, look

Niggas better understand this

I ain't doin' no favors, I ain't givin' out shit

I'm out here on my ten toes, nigga, no split

And if you don't like it, you can suck my dick

Nigga






On the road to riches and diamond rings

Young niggas doin' big things

Fuckin' all these bitches ain't the song I sing

Real niggas do real things

On the road to riches and diamond rings

Young nigga doin' big things

Fuckin' all these bitches is the song I sing






Haaah, nigga

T-M-C, uh

Look

Fat Dookie, Cuban Links

That's Bellvue and cranberry

We left all of the jewelry out there, you know, she know

Doin' it lightweight, I ain't shaved in a couple days

And this motherfucker goin' on

I fuck off racks though when I want to

You know

You see it's The Marathon, yeah