Pretty Ricky

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 unless 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

Blowin' 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