34 Lyrics - Rich Homie Quan

30, you a fool for this one 

[Chorus] 

Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four 

Pants sag, bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close 

Church in session, talk shit like the pastor, catch the holy ghost 

Trap been bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door 

We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it 

Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic 

Look suspicious, pistol in my draws and yeah, it's automatic 

You work at Lids, put shit on your kids, gone wit all that cappin' (Fuck your shit, Rich Homie) 

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[Verse 1] 

Pulled up in that Benz, I hopped out perfect (I hopped out clean) 

Tried to rob me you got killed now was it worth it? (Fa-fa-fa-fa) 

Might buy that Maybach I grew up with out no curtains (might buy that 600 nigga) 

Know that when I get it ima keep my windows rolled up on purpose (yeah, aye) 

You can't tell a nigga like me shit (nah), I ain't have it all when I was little (nope) 

16 years old drinking liquor (what), I ain't never ever touched a beer (haa) 

I ain't never ever touch a mill (milla), till I stayed down and start rappin' (I stayed down nigga) 

Then I turned my dreams into reality (dat right too!), I rode that 

[Chorus] 

Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four 

Pants sag, bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close 

Church in session, talk shit like the pastor, catch the holy ghost 

Trap been bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door 

We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it 

Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic 

Look suspicious, pistol in my draws and yeah, it's automatic 

You work at Lids, put shit on your kids, gone wit all that cappin' 

Photos 

[Verse 2] 

We were growin' up fighting when we were kids (yeah) 

Remember some nights where we ain't eat (ayy) 

I was Holyfield hustlin' in the trap (truth) 

That was Mike Tyson [?] to some kids (ayy, Mike) 

I remember train to get rich (hey) 

Smoke and twist some fire, not the mid (woo) 

Never had nothing growin' up (nah) 

Nigga, don't be surprised when I get it (ayy) 

Where were you when I was on my dick? (woo) 

I was so broke I needed fees (yup) 

Reminiscin' 'bout me growin' up 

You know I hate to talk about this shit (I do) 

Notice ten and walked up out the bitch 

Stripper fame tryin' to see who gettin' it (ha) 

Ridin' 'round with that thang on me 

And you know I got my license for this bitch (Rich Homie, baby) 

[Chorus] 

Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four 

Pants sag, bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close 

Church in session, talk shit like the pastor, catch the holy ghost 

Trap been bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door 

We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it 

Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic 

Look suspicious, pistol in my draws and yeah, it's automatic 

You work at Lids, put shit on your kids, gone wit all that cappin'