Skrilla & Lil Yachty Rich Sinners Lyrics

[Verse 1: Skrilla]
We rich forever, dirty money, never clean, I got some cream
I done got my bitch on drugs and I done got my dog on lean
Don't ask me what I'm sippin', nigga, this codeine promethazine, not sippin' green
Brody walks you down and out shit, flee the scene
So many shooters, expensive hats, my shooters walk down in Margiela's
You Saint Laurent or Ricky Owens? Designer pill boxes lever
Switch type of feather, feather trigger shooters give a nigga wings
I'm rollin' ninety milligram, I'm ten more grams away from beans
10 milli' make a nigga Milly Rock his ass right to the coffin
Wet willy, put a hole in nigga head like he a dolphin
Free Willy, free 40, cops took shooters off the market, he just an artist
When I'm hangin' with the gang, we come to target, gah
[Verse 2: Lil Yachty]
Brief intermission, neck twistin', type of diamonds got 'em glitchin'
Type of money that I'm getting'll turn your grace to hallelujah
Twin and Taylor, when it's beef, he come and suit you
Pour a deuce up, pour a three
Lot a niggas want my head but heated convos cute to me
It's never action like a movie with no green light
Niggas meet me real time and say I'm never what it seem like
How to drink? If you ever wonder what rich dreams look like
Burn the dope 'cause he can't cook right, go to school
I was crackin' cars for new Margiela shoes Heard your man got sent to jail for movin' dope, that boy a mule
I'm in Philly ridin' with Skrilla off the drink, try not to drool
You pour a line, it's not for you, go sip some green
The purple shit for real sippers, go pop a bean
I speak the truth, no lie, I'm not from New Orleans
Don't run this way, I walk around with big machines, grr, grr, grr

[Verse 3: Skrilla]
I raised the gator in the penthouse, yeah, of course
Granny trappin' in Chancletas, sellin' fetty off the porch
I'm from the bottom, Bikini Bottom, who knew Patrick be a star?
Five star restaurants, a bad bitch eatin' caviar
I'm sippin' lean, like to mix it with the cream
Like rockin' Ricky Owens jeans
Gen 5, the Glocky 17, brrt, straight dump
I dump, abandoned the styrofoam
I send my shooters at your home, you might not make it to the mo'n, goddamn
[Verse 4: Lil Yachty]
I'm burnin' rubber, scratchin' Forgis, doin' a hundred
Might as well walk with a Glock, without a clip, you'll never dump it
Actin' Macho man, we get a nigga chipped, it's never nothin'
Niggas wanna be like us so bad, he pourin' Robitussin
f*ck the fussin', I'm the one call all the shots, I feel like Putin
I be rackin' up the bread, ten G's ahead, I love the gluten
If it's ever really smoke, p*ssy, I got solutions
I rock stones without inclusions, all my cups come with a fusion

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