Lyrics Rich Homie Quan – Ol’Man Soul
Text:
Rich.As.In.Spirit
You got to understand where
I’m coming from
To know where I’ve been
Just listen
Hook:
I got an ol man soul
Feel like I done lived
This life before
Got pulled from my plug
Like Life-support
My knees hurt, yea
That’s what shooting dice
Will do
Matte black on a 92, Viper Coupe
I like ’em new
Talkin’ ’bout bitches, nigga
Life is cool
Trying to get richer nigga
And I didn’t even wanna kill ’em
So I pistol whipped him
And I don’t even want to hit her
Unless she into me
Not into me
I just want a bad lil Philly bitch
Who ready to roll out (Damn)
I just fucking killed this shit
I’m wanted for murder cause a nigga
Just showed out
Like a straitjacket
Boy I’m crazy
Pulled up on them niggas
That was hating
And the looks on their faces
Had them niggas like
I don’t even really wanna say shit
I just gotta play it how it go, you get it?
The other nigga he just with the basic
I just wanna turn ya, show ya how it go
Flipping it, Whipping it, Get it, Get it
I just wanna show you, digits, digits
Seven numbers are different from six digits
That’s a millionaire status
Billionaire status where I’m trying to be at
Next year
Done counted a whole lot of money
I can’t even fucking feel
My hands no mo
Arthritis got me fucked up
I’on know how I lucked up
Mama told us never suffer
I remember we didn’t have no supper
I’m rich as in spirit
Rich as in digits
Rich, yea I got a whole lot of money
Nigga ya’ll fear me
If you don’t you’s a broke nigga
I fear ya
Hook
I told her bring a friend
And I don’t wanna hit ’em
Unless she send ’em in
Trying hit some new shit
I want a set of twins
Still on my bucket list
Gotta get me a Benz
I don’t want that musty bitch
I wanna hit her friend
And I grant these bitches wishes, Rumpelstiltskin
And I keep that lil hoe running, like a field pig
I leave my hat on while I fuck her, like a Pilgrim
Plus I gotta kill ’em
Gotta keep these young niggas dreamin’
I wear my heart on my shoulders
So I walk around this mother fucker sleeveless
They was sleeping on my bars at first
Get a mattress for them boys Temper-pedic
I’m just trying to go and do shows hoe overseas
I got two boys who look up to me
And one who want to be me
And I’m still moving bass out the trunk, no speakers
My trunks caught a Ace, play a King, I’d beat ya
The pump make him jump, you a lame, Ima keep it
Them meats sweet, Swear to God Ima eat you
I don’t wanna call lil shawty unless I need it
She gon’ leave ’em knocking
Ima leave that pussy bleeding
I swear, she gone ride this dick
We gone need some mo legs on the chair
She gone fuck around, and might break it
Hope this dick she can take it
If she can’t Ima be so upset with her, her, her
And it don’t take pain for me to make that lil thing
Squirt, irt, irt
I gotta Ol Man Soul
Nigga can’t you tell?
Geeked up like Streets say rob the player
Chicken just came home nigga life is hell
You get a second chance at everything (Quan talk to ’em)
Hook
