Rich Whores Lyrics - Singles - Kreayshawn

Oh my God, did you hear the new Gucci Man album? 

I love Gucci Man! I love Kreayshawn! 

Let's get it Bumpin' Bumpin', yeah! 

This is for my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes 

Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose 

I love my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes 

Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose 

Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store 

Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more! 

Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store 

Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more! 

What up, bitch? I heard you go to FIDM 

What up, bitch? I see you dancin' with no rhythm 

What up, bitch? I know you like that gangsta rap 

But you'll prolly piss your pants if you ever seen the trap 

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I fuckin' hated school but I love my Trapper Keeper 

That's where I kept my work, go ahead and ask my teacher 

I got pretty features, "Did you major in photography?" 

Well, I did, and fuck that noise, I'm a self-taught prodigy 

Honestly, I'm probably a bonafide problem child 

I was born with hella steez, you had to go buy your style 

Ginger Spice, Ginger Spice, hustle hard since Fisher Price 

You offer up a couple lines, I just hit the swisher twice 

Sporty Spice, Sporty Spice, hustle hard for forty nights 

Forty days, 40k, forty hoes, forty wives 

Forty fashion students who designing all my merchandise 

And she hella shallow, damn, she could be my perfect wife! 

Photos 

This is for my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes 

Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose 

I love my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes 

Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose 

Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store 

Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more! 

Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store 

Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more! 

What up, bitch? I heard you go to FIDM 

What up, bitch? I see you dancin' with no rhythm 

What up, bitch? I know you like that gangsta rap 

But you'll prolly piss your pants if you ever seen the trap 

Broke house, poor house, crack house, trap house 

Art loft, sky freight, sky-high penthouse 

We in the downtown suite and the view is mayne 

A rapper talked about it so she had the system lame 

Her boyfriend's in an indie band and got a mustache 

The music's fuckin' lame, he lookin' like a muskrat 

Trust that, co-sign it, take it it to the bank 

You can put a pig in makeup but you can't disguise a skank 

I'm sharper than a shank and my marijuana stank 

My life is like a work of art, your canvas lookin' blank 

So add a little color, put some paint on your palette 

Because I fill them galleries, them painter hoes is mad at me! 

Line it up, sniff it! Chop it up, sniff it! 

This is for my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes 

Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose 

I love my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes 

Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose 

Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store 

Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more! 

Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store 

Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more! 

What up, bitch? I heard you go to FIDM 

What up, bitch? I see you dancin' with no rhythm 

What up, bitch? I know you like that gangsta rap 

But you'll prolly piss your pants if you ever seen the trap