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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Kenny Mason
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Edwin Green
Songwriter
Edward Maclin Cooper III
Songwriter
Allan Wayne Felder
Songwriter
Norman Harris
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Coupe
Producer
Ray Charles Brown Jr.
Recording Engineer
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer
James Kang
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
And you're always there
And then you taught me how to care
You gave meaning to my life
I can't wait to see you tonight, oh-oh
(COUPE)
Momma, I'm rich, momma, I'm rich
I done got blood on my hands, count it up quick
My niggas thuggin' on camera, hope we don't slip, yeah
Tighten up, tighten up
Tighten up, tighten up
Momma, I'm rich, momma, I'm rich
I'm on that new shit, chick on my dick
I ride around with that pool stick
If you loosen your grip, better
Tighten up, tighten up
Tighten up (fye), tighten up (fye)
Why would I switch sides?
I knew this side would end up the rich side
Original Big 9
Now with the switch, unlimited spitfire
Needed them numbers and doubled 'em up
Can't let no scrub in the huddle with us
If they ain't come from the struggle with us
Came out the jungle, jiggin' and jugglin' trauma
Just got the cost of the commas, kissin' the cup
Came up from clutchin' on corners
You came up cutting the corners, clique in the cut
Since a lil' kid, I would cut it, I spent my loneliness stonin'
Bitch wanna fuck and she don't even know me
Can't one-on-one, I'm the one and the only
I hit that WAP until one in the morning
My boy hit the Wock' and then walked with a .40
Walked on the beat and did more than the runnin'
I up the stick and say, "Why are you running?"
My momma text and say, "Wire me money"
My boy from the mud, he admire the money
Was always the motive that I always wanted
My dreams I was dreaming is finally funded now (funded now)
Momma, I'm rich, momma, I'm rich
I done got blood on my hands, count it up quick
My niggas thuggin' on camera, hope we don't slip, yeah
Tighten up, tighten up
Tighten up, tighten up
Momma, I'm rich, momma, I'm rich
I'm on that new shit, chick on my dick
I ride around with that pool stick
If you loosen your grip
Tighten up, tighten up
Tighten up, tighten up
Fired up, fired up
Fired up, fired up
Strap on my bitch like Fenty, ain't no robbin' her
Show keep linin' up, hoes keep linin' up
Rocks keep droppin' and climbin' up
Momma proud of me and I'm proud of her
I'm proud of me, and I'm proud of her
Trackin' my trips on calendars
Dracula shit, bitch, I'm counting up
Niggas drowned in the sauce, so we count it up
Niggas had to get out of the county, bruh
At the top of the mountain
You go up a mountain and mountain
Send the accountant the route
I'm removin' the roof of the Audi, it's coolin' the climate
Boost the amount and then round it
I dropped some new shit with COUPE
And recouped, then recounted
I'm tryna choose an accountant
Screw on the silence and shoot at the silence
Started this movement by moving in silence
I got these new nigga moving around it
They tried to loot it as soon as I found it
Claimin' they do what I do, but I doubt it
I hit my duke with the moves and it sounded like
Momma, I'm rich, momma, I'm rich
I done got blood on my hands
Count it up quick
My niggas thuggin' on camera
Hope we don't slip, yeah
Tighten up, tighten up
Tighten up, tighten up
Momma, I'm rich, momma, I'm rich
I'm on that new shit, chick on my dick
I ride around with that pool stick
If you loosen your grip, better
Tighten up, tighten up
Tighten up, tighten up
Writer(s): Edwin Green, Edward Maclin Cooper Iii, Norman Harris, Allan Felder
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