Why You Mad Lyrics - Singles - Rich The Kid

Hopping out the Rarri 

I don came from the bottom 

Got a whole lotta cash... 

Money on the table 

Got money on the floor 

Got money in the bag... 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

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Hopping out the Rarri 

I don came from the bottom 

Got a whole lotta cash... 

Money on the table 

Got money on the floor 

Got money in the bag... 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

Photos 

Broke nigga wanna talk 

Got money in the vault 

She buy me Giuseppe, she tell me she love me... 

You cuffing her, choosing her, giving her money 

Why ya mad cause I came up? 

Say I wouldn't make it fuck nigga i'm famous... 

Pull up in the Audi, the Rarri i'm racing 

No mo' wearin Ralph Lauren 

My bitch so foreign 

Trap jumpin like Jordan... 

How many times I told yall 

I'm drinking that lean 

Out the bottle in the morning... 

Yung nigga I come from the hood 

Flex and finesse and I juug 

Rich nigga I made me a milli 

My momma she told me I would 

Red bottoms when I'm walking it's a murder scene 

OG gas bags light green, Listerine 

I didn't pass history 

But it don't get to me 

Racking and stacking the currency... 

You love her, you give her yo card 

I'm in yo garage 

She suck me 

She getting me hard 

You kissing that broad 

Hopping out the Rarri 

I don came from the bottom 

Got a whole lotta cash... 

Money on the table 

Got money on the floor 

Got money in the bag... 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

Hopping out the Rarri 

I don came from the bottom 

Got a whole lotta cash... 

Money on the table 

Got money on the floor 

Got money in the bag... 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

Why you mad? 

You mad? Or nah? 

Rockstar, pull up, no guitar 

I'm fucking yo bitch but you buying her cars 

I ride in that Phantom, a boss 

My neck and my wrist on glacier 

Paper and paper, i'm relay the mayor 

Shorty she know i'm a player 

She thick from Jamaica 

Rich nigga in the club, throwin money in the air 

Broke niggas, just staring over there 

Pull up in a Rarri, but you riding on a spare 

My diamonds so clear 

Hunnid bands my ear 

I ain't round no square 

You busted yo tire 

You ain't got bus fare 

By the way, these haters ain't talm bout nothing 

I'm still getting hunnids 

In the mall with yo bitch 

Wit yo money 

I'm buying me something 

Maison Margielas 

And brand new Giuseppes 

You still wearin pradas... 

I pull up in Rarri 

I came from the bottom 

You ride in a marauder