Rick James Lyrics

We gonna hangout with

Rick James tonight

You know what I'm saying?

And here he comes up out the room

Cocaine's a hell of a drug

Everyday I wake up in the morning

Racks on my medulla

Only nigga rocking hella pink

Like beaches In Bermuda

Bitch I'm cooler than a

Yeti cooler

Out up in Vancouver

Fuck a shooter

Nine up on my hip

Ain't talkin bout a ruler

(What you talking bout?)

Bitch I'm talkin bout that glizzy

Imma shoot that hoe until it jam

Before you niggas hit me

What the lick read?

Doing shit no one believe

Not even Ripley

Got some hoes

That get down on they knees

When situations sticky

I'm the realest

To a fuckin T

You fucking with

A fucking G

These niggas want bad bitches

But won't take em out to Applebee's

I'm flyer than a pack of geese

Don't talk

I let my actions speak

My squad we run this shit

Like faculties

And track star athletes

My pockets super fat

Obese

Your bitch ain't bad

She for the streets

Play beats

And It turn to a feast

At least

I practice what I preach

Blowing gas

Til the day I'm deceased

Sing to your bitch

Like we in Grease

You talk to hoes about the tea

I fuck for an hour then I leave

Fuck yo couch hoe

Fuck yo couch bitch

Fuck yo couch hoe

Fuck yo couch bitch

Fuck yo couch hoe

Fuck yo couch bitch

Fuck yo couch hoe

Fuck yo couch bitch

Bitch

I

Don't give a fuck about y'all captions

All that cappin was funny

Til we pulled up

Now no one laughing

Bitch what's happenin?

Shopped at Nordstrom

Way before I brought them racks in

Ain't no lacking

When everyone on your team

About that action (Uh)

J Ham lil bitch