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Correct Mo Paper Lyrics
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Artists: R
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Rich The Kid
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Correct Mo Paper
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Lyrics:
(feat. YG) [Intro: Rich the Kid] Yeah, you know what I'm sayin'? Can't never switch, huh Ooh, ayy, any, huh [Chorus: Rich the Kid] You ain't a boss you can't touch her I might just paint the Bentley mustard I got rich, that's on my mother Say she love you, still can't trust her Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it But my frames, they Dior, I can't see baby Why your boyfriend a lame? I got mo' paper Bring the money out now, I got mo' haters [Verse 1: Rich the Kid] Where my stash box? Bring the racks out Watch your bad bop (Bad) I blew that cash out (Cash, what) Yah, ayy, ran my money up Now I got mo' haters (I got mo' papers) Bitches wanna fuck 'cause I got mo' papers Now I Speed Race, I want more face My bitch bake the cake, I might slide the Wraith Hermès links, check the slink Chanel when she blink, she want that 'Rari pink (Skrrt, skrrt) [Chorus: Rich the Kid] You ain't a boss you can't touch her I might just paint the Bentley mustard I got rich, that's on my mother Say she love you, still can't trust her Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it But my frames, they Dior, I can't see baby Why your boyfriend a lame? I got mo' paper Bring the money out now, I got mo' haters [Verse 2: YG] I need the bag fast, fast, fast, fast (Fast) Pulled up, Lambo, niggas mad, mad, mad, mad (Niggas mad) Saint Laurent, hard bottoms, splash, splash, splash (Splash) You might slip on a drip, you might need the cash I painted my 6-4 red, a lot of my homies dead Some of my homies Blue, a lot of my homies Red On Bloods, I need that head, I'm tryin' to feel it in my legs I'm trying to spend a little bread, fuck it up at Sakks, yeah All my bitches drive Benz, I'll put you in a Benz All my hoes conniving, they finesse them M's Rich nigga slide in, oh yeah, yeah she did Before you fuck me, give that pussy a cleanse, yeah [Chorus: Rich the Kid] You ain't a boss you can't touch her I might just paint the Bentley mustard I got rich, that's on my mother Say she love you, still can't trust her Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it But my frames, they Dior, I can't see baby Why your boyfriend a lame? I got mo' paper Bring the money out now, I got mo' haters
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