Complaining (feat. Rico Love) (Explicit)

Complaining (Explicit) - Kevin Gates/Rico Love

Sweetheart let me make you understand something

These b**ch always gonna have a problem with you

For one you bad as a motherf**ker

For two your ni**a have money

Keke and Te-te got Dre-dre and Ri-ri

My theme song on repeat Mesha she a rider

Throwing dick inside her

No Baby Phat no BeBe

Isabel Marant Emilio Pucci Christian Louis Vuitton

Sara operated careless

Mouth on me she do it raw

Tonya get on top of me probably while blowing strong

Excuse me I meant to say A+

F**k up her hair and makeup

And her feet she go to sleep

And when I leave she don't wake up

When I walk in with that bag

She know it's gon' be raining

Spending all that paper it's a damn shame ain't it

My little mama bad

Outfit look likes it's painted

When I threw that money up them hoes fainted

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

I buy her what she want in New York an understanding

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

My ho ain't complaining

Coc*ine Aston Martin I just bought that

I been scared to drive it

I be over an Audi probably ask me

How the f**k you buy it

Pull into the club with a bag full of bands

Scurr and a Maserati

Pants sagging got it raining her body painted

All the b**ches turn they nose up

No my ho she's not complaining

Spend a night with me vacation

Taken never make it famous

Head back to my trap pull up in that Mercedes

Say she feel it in her stomach

Grip her waist she making faces

When I walk in with that bag

She know it's gon' be raining

Spending all that paper it's a damn shame ain't it

My little mama bad

Outfit look likes it's painted

When I threw that money up them hoes fainted

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

I buy her what she want in New York an understanding

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

My ho ain't complaining

Ice melting champagne bottles

White sand around me pay to watch her

Bad b**ches in two-pieces your

Dame out here wanna mingle

I stay grinding I can't stop it need eight collars

My strap on me no seat-belt

Make it spray M-I-A yeah he felt it

Big nuts with a lot of heart and a foreign car

With a foreign cord

No rest and relaxation all my key

Partners say all in order

Back to jail with this pistol then

That might make me a foreign star

When I walk in with that bag

She know it's gon' be raining

Spending all that paper it's a damn shame ain't it

My little mama bad

Outfit look likes it's painted

When I threw that money up them hoes fainted

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

I buy her what she want in New York an understanding

Them b**ches mad but my ho ain't complaining

My ho ain't complaining