Lyrics:
really low
Our chicks be by our side
They love it when we ride
With the tops peeled back
Peeled back, doing laps on the tracks, can ya feel that
Sit back
gloss
A Rick Ross a big Boss so get lost
I been grinding and hustling since I was seven
I die and they goin say he the biggest hustler in heaven (Amen)
I
lost at
Didn't cost me
Stack the blue straps in my drawstrings
Need my pockets Rick Ross
Niggas try to keep up, we exhausting
I make decisions
You
was on my grind
Hustling before Rick Ross was out
Skinny nigga talll
Empty clips and all
Hit a nigga forehead
Buddy dolphin rout
Love to die like I was
Yeah Kay Slay, Drama, Whoo Kid
Ya'll keep it real with me yeah
(I'm not 'gon play with ya'll)
Good lookin' niggas all the DJs
I got love for ya'll
a Black Hippy too in Ugg flip flops
Cos I'm a real boss fuck Rick Ross
on him
Rick Ross (Gross)
I don't play with this rap shit
I got no life, I stay in the attic
Fuck a rap career, I'm waiting to smash it
Soulja Boy you got
love to hate, followin my fate better hit two a days cuz
I'm in tip top shape, the new hip hop face, with Rick Ross cape, the Boss in Salt Lake
Puffin
that life ain't fair
Sippin Rozay like I'm Rick Ross shout out all the pears
Vizene all my diamonds yea these shits is crystal clear
Eat lil shorty pussy
Stand up like a army truck
Big dawg niggas know whats up
Run em over im a real thug
In my city people showing love
Lil bro but im big cuz
Stand up
What you can do go get that money and them haters gone go
Aye
And if you ever need a hand I'm by yo side
Down to ride
Me and you together like Bonnie
fresh air, ha, and maybe you do too
Land of divided, recognized by the dead soldiers
As I spit my ballad, write me solid
Original tendencies got me
need to change
But baby I need the change
2 coupes, 2 bricks, life's too short
Cocktail, 2 Glocks and a Newport
I put my money where my mouth is
Number
Ghetto boys
Die by twenty-five
Or catch a quick three-to-five
From a young white Canadian
Wannabe G’s perspective
Baby baby
Reminiscin’ back
To when
the finger
I guess nobody loves a real nigga-slash-rap singer
I thought I'd bring a little truth to the young troops
I brought proof that the niggas need
not afraid to fly
You need to get on a flight and fly tonight
Brought up in the hottest clubs so high
That tonight for these hoes is nothing but love
not afraid to fly
You need to get on a flight and fly tonight
Run up in the hottest clubs so high
That tonight for these hoes is nuttin but love
I'm
surrounded by the drugs and the thugs. It's the truth it ain't no fun here
After all them years
After all them tears, you chose up
Shorty tell me was the love
a failure"
Surrounded by thugs, drugs, and drug paraphernalia
Cops courts, and their thoughts is to derail us
Three time felons in shorts with jealous
b low the money, that louie bag of hundreds,
We trying to holla, but she be hella fronting, she never met a nigga real as
[Chorus]
[Rick Ross
she's going up for me 'cause she wants to be my main (wanna be my main)
I be getting real bored of the hoes, I need some entertainment
(No I don't think
French shoe
I fuck with Wale, Ross, and my nigga French too
And me and Face just slashed the last beat up like a Ginsu
My album like a 'Rari, a lot
French shoe
I fuck with Wale, Ross, and my nigga French too
And me and Face just slashed the last beat up like a Ginsu
My album like a 'Rari, a lot
just can't fuck with Jayceon
So let's go
Laa, da da da dup da ah
Thought you love me before
I'm glad to kill it some more
Every hood needs an anthem
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