Lyrics:
we wanna be
The way you love me the way you love me (Fuck Me)
Yeah, that's me, just where we wanna be
I got that kinda pussy that'll keep you off
all the muscle....BITCH you heard what i said....
Rick ross he ain't got no muscle, he just a big ass dude that
Knows how to hustle, wanna be like him
come by the way that they rattle
When I woke up this morning, yeah
I told myself I had to get some money
(Aye, man
I had this crazy ass dream last
what he dreaming of, nigga thats cheeks. Free them like Meek I need them on me wsup. I need that ass nigga aint no other way to get the point across. U
stares
In a world of wrongness and
Fights for the strongest
What's the innocent to do when
The fight gets brought, kid?
No way you're that scared of my
Okay, now that were here, I can finally tell you guys,
What I brought you here for
So, but first of all, cheers to Strange, toast, glass's up
Tim shut down the whole show
Oh that's that Class of 3000
Beat my enemies by any means just like I'm Malcolm
Douse em with fire like Dhalsim
You gone
Wall Street Journal analysis
The rates of companies by speed Paine-Webber
Merryl Lynch, no other than Solomon Brothers
Banking system with my
the power of the tongue is gated by the teeth/ do the words you got locked up have meaning/ when they are released/
Will you be remembered when you are
niggas just try to act like you just not that motherfuckin' nigga, like
Like you just really don't do it how you do it
Like, niggas will really try
Get an Oscar, I bet and
I don’t want to leave you, but I’m
Being pulled by the ocean current
And I have to swim across it
Hoping, that you are waiting
brands
Get with some youngstas just by hangin with Doc
Now that's some real bitch type shit
Nigga so how you fuccin with me
I gets my ride on betta all day
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
She know I'm a boss let me put it on You
I don't got to gloss she follow Everything I do
Like Diana Ross heaven sent times Two
She a bad bitch with
that pass by in them old school chevies wit the top downs,
Beats that, you know, make the trunk rattle, rear-views shake,
Then they look at you wit
stabbed
JAB!
Why do they persist Lynch?
When they know that we’ll kill them all
Niggas about to get stabbed, grrr
Niggas about to get stabbed, rrr
wanna fuck with us, you must've had no common sense
I'll kill you then your guts get eaten up by Brotha Lynch
It's Strange Music so the competition
the town, yeah, yeah
And lil' baby got some ass, the way that it bounces, yeah, yeah
Paintin' on the boy like I'm Bob Ross
Big Boss, yeah, call me Rick Ross
your wrist at?
I can kill you in four bars, that's a Kit Kat
Did the Lambo my way with a sick wrap
Smooth as Frank Sinatra with a motherfucking slick
big for you to use, you lose, you lose
Ain't much no one can say about me, I done made my way
Took my losses, it's safe to say
That I'm a made man,
[Lil' Flip (Rick Ross)]
You smell that? (smell what?)
That's money
I smell money
Hahaaa
(Rossss)
I know y'all wonderin' like...
"What the hell is
Poppin' wheelies on that dick, he thinkin' I'm from B'more
We should've been friends but I know you wanna be more (hey)
Touch my first M, niggas know I
of our intentions do
In the Name and by Authority of the good
People of these Colonies solemnly publish
And declare that these United Colonies are
some numbers you want me to spit otherwise you know I ain't gon do shit
But I don't need a co-sign I'm good either way dawg I'm goated and I'm finna
.png/203px-Ross_Lynch_2_(cropped).png "Ross Lynch")
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