You can rely on the old man's money 'Cause you know it don't matter anyway Say money but it won't get you too far You're a rich girl, and you've gone too far Get you too far It's a bitch girl and it's gone too far It's a bitch girl but it's gone too far

You can't hide your lyin' eyes And your smile is a thin disguise I thought by now you'd realize There ain't no way to hide your lyin' eyes City girls just seem to find out early How to open doors with just a smile A rich old man And she won't have to

I don't need your civil war Your power hungry sellin' soldiers In a human grocery store Ain't that fresh The way we've always done before My hands are tied It feeds the rich while it buries the poor I don't need one more war Look at your young men

Lady, I'm your knight in shining armor and I love you You have made me what I am and I'm yours My love, there's so many ways I want to say I love you Let me hold you in my arms forever more You have gone and made me such a fool I'm so lost in your love

My father told me, lying on his bed of death, "boy," he says, "woman she's gonna make it, don't fool your self 'cause she's got something to make a man lay that money, uh, right in her hand And the very thing that makes her rich will make you poor The

Sumthin' for nuthin' Foolish bride call me up, beg to scratch her itch Rich old man got the needle, slipped and dropped a stitch Name the time, name the price leave you door unlocked I'll bring a toy guaranteed to put the spring in your shock Gigolo

I got some money to blow, I'm lookin' good, bitch Even though I's the king, I stay hood rich Mansa Musa, gold jewelry Ooh, what'chu talkin' 'bout? Shit, go two piece Every day is Christmas, Santa got his roof missin' All they do throw shots at the king,

You can rely on the old man's money 'Cause you know it don't matter anyway Say money but it won't get you too far You're a rich girl, and you've gone too far Get you too far It's a bitch girl and it's gone too far It's a bitch girl but it's gone too far

My father told me, lying on his bed of death, "boy," he says, "woman she's gonna make it, don't fool your self 'cause she's got something to make a man lay that money, uh, right in her hand And the very thing that makes her rich will make you poor The

Plus, they keep bud in the kitchen, fuck some eggs and grits Jimmy Henchman with the shipment, I sold a lot of shit Woke up in the mornin', bust down me a brick East Atlanta, Zone 6, Gucci really rich Heard I killed a man allegedly, but I didn't bust a