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Yee yee! We've found 1,064 lyrics and 141 artists matching cry by rick ross.
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Trina, Rick Ross, Hot Box.. I got a, fat pussy for a cocksucker I got a, hideout for a cop ducker I got a, condo for a baller nigga I got a,
bro Not once, not twice, but thrice And now she's actin' all nice Fuck y'all, fuck Jamahl, fuck Tazz, fuck Bitch Sauce Get lost, built like Rick Ross
fatter Yeah they fatter than Rick Ross And I swipe, swipe, swipe Could give a fuck about the cost Look alive I push that foot to drive I'm vrooming past
go Whether thats right I will never know(ugh but here goes nothin) [Verse 2 - Rick Ross] When Im alone in my room sometimes I stare at the walls
Rick Ross: Trilla Bird-man: brrrr! [Webbie] The 'lil soldier wit nothin' clear to see wasn't nobody handin' him shit Ridin' round town glamor
but no rick Ross But I can never love no thot I can never love no thot Woke up this morning Last night I was faded Shawty calls my phone and I look
boss Fuck Joss, he's no hoss I hate his guts and I hope that he never pushes through Fuck Joss, he has no sauce Fuck Joss, tryna be Rick Ross He has
Rick Ross Go to jail pod boss Paint away bob Ross Yes I smoke no recollection Trump is out next election Only fat mid section I am smart intellection
make 'em feel empowered 'Til they're fertilizin' soil Pushin' flowers, yeah What do Lil Wayne Rick Ross and 2 Chainz all have in common? They make
dollar residence Rick Ross, big chips, AKs, flip clips Off set rims on a rear six-inch lips Started on the benches, rose through the trenches Now I'm
Rick Ross: Trilla Bird-man: brrrr! [Webbie] The 'lil soldier wit nothin' clear to see wasn't nobody handin' him shit Ridin' round town glamor
I stay on my boss shii like Rick Ross shii Gotta stack that Guap up until it a wrap Money, older than B.I.G and Pac I ain't going trip when I'm
Boys tryna floss, act you tough shit like motherfucking Rick Ross We all know you ain't the boss, work in an office, bow down to the labels
bussin Run up Onna squah, might load choppa at ya muffin Need dat cash I need dat sack no rick Ross I need two maybachs Hold dat rock don't trip don't
ear That at two you would like to hear Kriss Kross and Rick Ross at 2am Jump around and get down to Here I Am Face down and back up till the morning
Savage the way I floss No Rick Ross, I stack my chips Jeans to be a boss No Kris Kross Imma be a rich bitch ( Verse 2 ) Yeah, uh I’m so
Okay They say I make a stick talk Got em pissed off Eddie James bitch I'm big dog Eating Rick Ross I got bands in a duffle Heard the feds got tipped
grind, no flip flop When they see me they say I'm headed for the tip top Hey, hey I feel like Rick Ross I ain't heavyset but I promise I'm a big boss When
the duffel Fuck em, fuck em, fuck em, fuck em Gotta keep extra clips when you bumble When your niggas bitch up, you in trouble My pockets fat, Rick Ross fat
attack You tried to mess with Game and 50 But neither one of them called you back Ask J R my car was pushed To the limit on Cool & Dre Plus Rick Ross was
Feeling it I notice that people been writing me off Imma go getter no matter the cost I'm weird as the fuck Call me Morty Rick Ross Take a trip in
trophy floss Tryna get next to a humble million, tryna pull a Rick Ross (Naturally Humble mean Meek , Meek Mill, tryna get a humble mill, nah shit sho) I
Then disappear for a couple days cause I got shit ta handle This isn't Rick Ross this is Tony Soprano A real Boss, and I'm making real moves And she
I'm gon floss Eating good like I'm Rick Ross I got hella bars like WiFi If you pull you go bye bye If I pull make you cry cry Why you hating don't be
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