Rich Boy
Rich Boy - Touch That Ass lyrics
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(Yeah Rich Boy man I'm pimpin' like that) [Rich Boy] I keep flickin' these dollars girl and... you know I just got somethin' on my mind... Hold on Polow man stop throwin' money man let me see what's happenin' wit' this man [Chorus] It's one thing I gotta ask, can I touch that ass? Touch that ass, yeah touch that ass If I fly ya first class, can I touch that ass? Touch that ass, yeah touch that ass Now I don't mind throwin' cash, can I touch that ass? Touch that ass, yeah touch that ass Ya homegirl kinda bad, can I touch her ass? Touch her ass, yeah touch her ass [Verse 1] Catch me on Cheetah's wit a down dick eater Standin' on the block in a fresh wife beater Filet mignon, me and Polow Da Don Why they call you Rich Boy? Look at my charm Look at my bracelet and look at my arm Shakin' my wrist might just start a snowstorm Up in the club and we gettin' it on Poppin' big bottles and spillin' Patron D-Boys be the squad Zone 4 be the label Got a 645 wit' the satellite cable They say I wouldn't make it but I still made it happen One point three mill' and just start rappin' Yeah I got a room when you suck on my dick 'Cause if you suck on my dick you better swallow that shit Ya young bitch, niggas still runnin they mouth [gunshots] [Chorus] [verse 2] One dollar, two dollar, three dollar, four When I leave the club I take two whores Maybe one more, back to the Doubletree Hoes wanna double me and sip bubbly Let's play a lil' game, Simon Says Simon Says "why don't you give Rich Boy some head?" No lie, I'm a cool dude Not tryin' to be rude, just tryin' to touch you Yeah, I'm lookin' for that super dome I ain't talkin' 'bout the field they throw the ball on I'm a ball on, make that ass roll Pussy look like gold comin' down that pole Got the whole club out of control Fake ballers in the bitch throwin' rent money, stupid bitch I laugh at that shit, what you wanna do? I got hundred dollar bills, tens and twenties too [Chorus] [Verse 3] I'm takin' my money and spendin' it all All these thick girls that I wanna take home Throwin' big faces until they all gone While I watch all these girls take off they thong Mr. DJ won't you turn up my song Bouncin' that ass I don't see nothin' wrong One bitch, two or three bankrolls Eighty-five thousand dollars worth of Russian rose gold Take a picture of ya broad, put it in my iPod She lick it dry clean when my dick get hard Ain't playin' wit'cha baby can I get a lil' grip Spend a couple chips, I break ya off a big tip [Chorus]