RNP Songtext
von Cordae feat. Anderson .Paak
RNP Songtext
One of y′all – gon' be – with me
I got two bad – gon′ be rubbin' my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y'all ain′t got nothin′ on me
Ooh, not one of y'all – gon′ be – with me
I got two bad – gon' be rubbin′ my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y'all ain′t got nothin' on me
Uh, okay, put your – hands up, this the – anthem
Smiling 'cause I′m young, rich, black, and I′m handsome
Not to mention wealthy, – on her healthy
Young millionaire, what the – can you tell me? Smell me?
–, that's Chanel cologne
I′m in Europe with the tourists with no cellular phone
Like ooh, sound like rich – problems
I hit a bad – with a fistful of –
And the randomness of risky ménages
Like get the head right, she can get what she wanted
The spits, then flaunt it, my drip like a faucet
She told me she was prego, I ain't even take the mother– out my pocket, yeah
The opposite
She want me to fly her, so I copped a jet
Must be thinkin′ I'm a one way ticket on a runway
Drippin′ in my feng shui, sippin' on a sundae
Ooh, not one of y'all – gon′ be – with me
I got two bad – gon′ be rubbin' my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y′all ain't got nothin′ on me
Ooh, not one of y'all – gon′ be – with me
I got two bad – gon' be rubbin' my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y′all ain′t got nothin' on me
I bought a Moncler coat for the times we were broke
I′ma wear it in the summer on LeBron James boat
Front row? Duh, bro, we don't sit on nosebleeds
Ain′t your pockets obese? They won't fit in those seats
Ayy, we like a cold team, –, Shaq and Kobe
Like back in ′03, I was only like six
Shit, I was like 16, but I can give a 16
I can make a – scream, that's a bit extreme
I got a thick bald –, I call her Ms. Clean
My drip frosty like Halls and Listerine
We all all-stars, you hardly sixth string
Yeah, I had to ball hard to harvest these dreams
Swear to God, me too, no Harvey Weinstein
The coupe was lime green, my wrist was blinding
We party in South Beach, Ferraris and blue cheese
– does that even mean? –, just let the hook sing
Ooh, not one of y'all – gon′ be – with me
I got two bad – gon′ be rubbin' my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y′all ain't got nothin′ on me
Ooh, not one of y'all – gon′ be – with me
I got two bad – gon' be rubbin' my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y′all ain′t got nothin' on me
I got two bad – gon′ be rubbin' my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y'all ain′t got nothin′ on me
Ooh, not one of y'all – gon′ be – with me
I got two bad – gon' be rubbin′ my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y'all ain′t got nothin' on me
Uh, okay, put your – hands up, this the – anthem
Smiling 'cause I′m young, rich, black, and I′m handsome
Not to mention wealthy, – on her healthy
Young millionaire, what the – can you tell me? Smell me?
–, that's Chanel cologne
I′m in Europe with the tourists with no cellular phone
Like ooh, sound like rich – problems
I hit a bad – with a fistful of –
And the randomness of risky ménages
Like get the head right, she can get what she wanted
The spits, then flaunt it, my drip like a faucet
She told me she was prego, I ain't even take the mother– out my pocket, yeah
The opposite
She want me to fly her, so I copped a jet
Must be thinkin′ I'm a one way ticket on a runway
Drippin′ in my feng shui, sippin' on a sundae
Ooh, not one of y'all – gon′ be – with me
I got two bad – gon′ be rubbin' my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y′all ain't got nothin′ on me
Ooh, not one of y'all – gon′ be – with me
I got two bad – gon' be rubbin' my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y′all ain′t got nothin' on me
I bought a Moncler coat for the times we were broke
I′ma wear it in the summer on LeBron James boat
Front row? Duh, bro, we don't sit on nosebleeds
Ain′t your pockets obese? They won't fit in those seats
Ayy, we like a cold team, –, Shaq and Kobe
Like back in ′03, I was only like six
Shit, I was like 16, but I can give a 16
I can make a – scream, that's a bit extreme
I got a thick bald –, I call her Ms. Clean
My drip frosty like Halls and Listerine
We all all-stars, you hardly sixth string
Yeah, I had to ball hard to harvest these dreams
Swear to God, me too, no Harvey Weinstein
The coupe was lime green, my wrist was blinding
We party in South Beach, Ferraris and blue cheese
– does that even mean? –, just let the hook sing
Ooh, not one of y'all – gon′ be – with me
I got two bad – gon′ be rubbin' my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y′all ain't got nothin′ on me
Ooh, not one of y'all – gon′ be – with me
I got two bad – gon' be rubbin' my feet
I got three young – down to bust out the heat
And all y′all ain′t got nothin' on me
Writer(s): Jermaine L. Cole, Brandon Paak Anderson, Cordae Dunston Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
