Lyrics:
dog is the hood)
Take it how you want, motherfucker (it's all good)
I'm in the hood all day (dog is the hood)
I think I'm, like, the only nigga, dog
Now I'm countin 100s I swing euros and pounds in Europe with pounds boy I be movin around. Cell phone well known the big boss rick rizzle the rich
become a boss just like I'm rick ross
I was out there on that block with my nigga serving junkies
You was out there in the streets running wild like some
be saying I'm troublesome
Yeah yeah I'm a gangster
Always in the hood pulling trigger
Yeah yeah I'm a gangster
Always in the hood pulling trigger
Yeah
happy for y’all
Just know I’m never mad
I suspect Pac and Biggie
Got killed by the Feds
But I can’t prove it
So I leave that in the past
2 weeks after I
the club like
[Verse 2 - Yung Joc]:
Every day im hustlin
They think I'm Rick Ross
As soon I fuck em'
tell the hoes to get lost
a lot of niggas mad
they all
shit, Rick The Ruler
I'm gettin' bitches, stackin' mula
Trap hands, hallelujah
What's up my G? You must be new up in the trap
So let me tell you how
never seen the truth
He wanna' act like he with that, okay we
Before I re-up I drop your bitch off
Told the label double up them
M's like I'm Rick Ross
Hood By Air 好似黑 timbs,
諗起都癲
以為 Taylor Gang 我著緊 Ramones,
你係我影子, Top DRKSHDW,
要增高 爭女人 買 Kiss boots
Get money and pull up Rick store
Hook:
Rick
the streets strapped with them thangs
She in love with a G so she tatted my name (Ross!)
I'm the biggest boss that ya seen thus far
Ten black maybacks back
put in needles
Mix of Rick Ross painting with Bob Ross's easel
Buffalove gets no love, out here look medieval
The segregation is real
That's why we
Bitch I'm Rick James making money by the minute
Bitch I'm Rick James classy women get to stripping
The minute I get up in it Mr. Ricky now a Ginuea uh
Bitch I'm Rick James making money by the minute
Bitch I'm Rick James classy women get to stripping
The minute I get up in it Mr. Ricky now a Ginuea uh
with Pill like Rick Ross
That spread game so strapped, talk shit and I clap
Leave a nigga tongue by feet, and his lung by cheek
Man, I left a nigga
Putting my feets on the table I feel like Rick Ross
I ain't talking bout fame I ain't talking bout racks just feeling that
Stop playing with me
reminding me of Rick Ross
Now I shop at Neiman's been a while since I been in Ross
I don't want that girl cause I heard that she a big toss
And I'm always
Ball Better streets I'm Alexander getting Greater
Savage in my hood they show no four letters
Said it's our fathers land I need like four acres
I've been
motherfucker who wanta pick a bone
2 to the dome will do your ass home
huh, ain't no love in my motherfucking hood
lookin where I'm at, ain't shit turning all
broke
Hoe I take that as an insult
I got three blank credit cards
I'm bout to emboss
How it's looking I'll be rich
Forever like I'm Rick Ross
Caught this
[Intro]
And we go by the runners
(I think it's time for me to go hard as the hood I'm from, ay)
DJ Khaled, we the best
(I think it's time for me
Wrist wear on hockey, Porsche Box like Ali
My sneaks they Bally
In my hood I'm prob'ly
Just rollin' round in that Ghost
Watchin' out for them folks
Heater
interested in
Named Rick, no rapper alive could mess with him
Lace records all audience roar to
Grand of a show, skill on the dance floor too
Freakin'
Anywhere I go, I'm tapped in with the bosses
We live in luxury, I'm on my Rick Ross shit
The way I rap over the beat got 'em so nauseous
They said it's
right for this occasion
Heard me John Blazin, see me in gangster flicks
Life is so amazin, hate to be paperless
Bill Gate in this, it must be God, I'm
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