If... Song Lyrics
If... by Richie Rich * send corrections to the typist
(Verse 1: Richie Rich)
I learned first
A b**ch gon' move like she wanna
Through the grass, to camaflauge the ass
Her main goal, the cats at the top of the pole
She's 17
Already on the 18th hole
That's how it goes
Niggas better check these hoes
Bust moves to improve
Try to stay on ya toes
Cuz this b**ch, she guppyin' up with every balla,
Don't hate me cuz the b**ch ate me
I seen it happen
What's poppin, is hoopin' and rappin'
She call me papi,
Never bought this b**ch versace
Dawn and Karen, that thing's in the black LeBaron,
Got her transportin'
Now she feel important
Little girl gone bad, she dancin' at the club
Mad den a mothaf**ka lookin' for love
She f**kin' everything
And a nigga can't control her
Hoopas, rappas, thugs, and high rollas
(Chorus)
If I f**ked yo' b**ch
Would a nigga trip?
Knowin' that she go around blowin' niggas' dicks
If I f**ked yo' b**ch
Would a nigga trip?
Knowin' that she go around blowin' niggas' dicks
X2
(Verse 2: Richie Rich)
You know, like I know
Paid niggas live
The M ticket, make the hoes wanna kick it
All groupies
Big, tall, and small groupies
Niggas get paid
Believe they all groupies
She got a nigga
And she love him
Ain't gon' leave him
But quick to cross, with any nigga that floss
Boy I'm tellin' ya
Its your job to test your b**ch
If her legs open
Believe I can arrest your b**ch
She fine than a mothaf**ka bout to get f**ked
And no loss bein' broke
Cuz nigga we ain't folks
Playa policy, you should have more than one hoe
Cuz when she drop down below
Damn, there she blow
Its on now
But before she hit the house
The scope fo sho
I let her wash out her mouth
Now she kissin' you
Screamin' how she missin' you
In love with one b**ch
He bit the tougne kiss
(Chorus)
(Verse 3: Richie Rich)
If I f**ked her
As if he f**ked her
Would it break ya heart
If I told ya, we f**ked her
Be up together
sh*t I broke, they slept together
I'm the balla
At ya house the crank caller
Let me be the reason you get caller I.D.
Ya can't check her
These clients at the business respect her
She love this
Nigga no lie, I f**ked your b**ch
I know it hurts
But if ya scared go to church
Respect a thug
I kept ya b**ch out the mud
Gave a game of trey
Showed her how to get paid
Don't mug me
Nigga you should take me to lunch
I got a hunch
That we gonna see each other a bunch
Like that GS 3
Boy that's PS me
Its all pimpin
Trick you should pay more attention
Can't hate it
When practically we related
She your wife, my hoe
Its your b**ch, with my dough
(Chorus)
(Verse 4: Richie Rich)
Ya b**ch hit the studio
Tryin' to see
Just how much dick she gotta suck to f**k with me
Said you was proper
But sh*t you wasn't a thug
She had a phat ass on her
I couldn't pass on her
Its too cats in a b**ch life
Two mackin' a trick
They keep her even
Some how this trick keep believin'
That he's the playa
Nothin' to lose it's all game
Like bein a trick for this b**ch is a small thang
I knew though
When I'm doin' my thang real quick with a b**ch
Be slick with a b**ch
She slip
Nigga don't stick with a b**ch
Get ghost on a b**ch
Stay close, pop like toast on a b**ch
Play Benz on a b**ch
T.V.'s 20 inch rims on a b**ch
Break wind on a b**ch
Go deep
Then take 10 on a b**ch
Drop south on a b**ch
Put dick all on the mouth with a b**ch
I'ma out on a b**ch
That's really all I'm bout on a b**ch
Its me, Jazzy-Fay, and Dent tryin' to pay the rent
(Chorus to end)