Testo di Pretty Ricky

(David, wake up) Yeah (Latto, let 'em know) Yeah, yeah, yeah Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P (real freak) Pretty Ricky, he gotta pleasure the P (real freak) Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P Pleasure the P, he gotta pleasure the P Light this bitch up like a candle I got them big toys like Santa Bitches ain't hard, they just turn on up camera He love my grammar, I'm from Atlanta So I don't want to hear R&B, fuck me to trap Street smart and book smart You know all them niggas love that (all them niggas love that) I can't walk through no metal detector Niggas rats, talking to the detective Niggas fold every time under pressure Fuck a label, I'm my own investor Hundred thou', stuff it right in the dresser Pocket full of blues, bitch, I need extra Left that nigga, he'll never do better Tell him when to shoot like a director Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P Pretty Ricky (real freak), he gotta pleasure the P (real freak) Pretty Ricky (get on your knees), pleasure the P (get on your knees) Pleasure the P (ayy), he gotta pleasure the P I don't want him 'less the nigga got big racks And I'm waiting on a ho to drop a diss track I ain't going back and forth on the internet I'ma pull up on her ass, put an end to that Blowing through the money like a clarinet They be ass dancing on the turtleneck Where you from? I ain't ever heard of that Birkin bag where I keep the burner at When you live like this, bitch, every day payday Put it in his face, nut in his mouth like Payday I been stacking chips, I stay with a bag like Frito Lay Firefighter, if she got smoke, pull up, let it spray Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P Pretty Ricky, he gotta pleasure the P (real freak) Pretty Ricky, pleasure the P (real freak) Pleasure the P (get on your knees), he gotta pleasure the P (get on your knees) Real freak Get on your knees Get on your knees