Lyrics:
soup
ABC'S
Big Benz
In a big body
Big boy pants
This not a hobby
This more money than you ever seen
I'm Rick Ross
Eating calamari
Ion shop at Ross
Baby,
But gotta tell the truth, yeah, the block wasn't me
Lookin' for adventure, but the block was not
The block was real, Woo got killed
Half a year
or I'd break her poor heart in two
(Hurry, hurry)
(Win a prize)
A let me tell you now,
I passed up a chance when I walked by a booth
(Hurry, hurry)
cost
Huh, huh, yeah, my pockets fat just like Rick Ross
Huh, huh, I just been counting my racks up, big boss
Huh, huh, big boss
Huh, I'm a big boss
Huh,
Master P, Lil' Rick, 2Pac
All my niggas Down South hustlin'
And all the motherfuckin' real niggas on the West Coast
The best coast, toast to the best
acres each to live on
Real nigga to the day that I'm deceased
Even then I pray I'm living through these beats
Dope boy, you can tell by my sneaks
Burning
blast Rick Ross
Unaware of girls' lives lost
You're the hometown hero, and mom says you'd do no wrong
These days for you are games to be played
To be
or let you down
Well I'm here to tell ya that dick's a clown
Though he was just a boy when he made that vow
I'd bet it all that he knows by now
All
be~!
I hear them fantasizin 'bout they want to be me
Yeahhhh, I done said it befo'
I'm a real D-boy you can't be me folk
Yeahhhh~! I'm like nah nah
the window I fling
Like I'm watched by the pit boss
A feeling in my gut like Rick Ross
Chips in the air chuck a deuce and get lost
I don't give a fuck
I was
feather (boy)
Don't grow and get killed, by that lil' boy in the kilt
Yeah I just bought a vest and upgraded my wheel, yeah
That's how I feel, for real
And lookin' back I can't believe
He let her run with a boy like me
He said "you better get her back by ten or there'll be hell to pay"
I can still feel her
guy
Carlos, that's my guy
Rick Ross, that's my guy
Hold up wait
Took a seat with greatness guess I really know my place
Everybody dripping fuck with us
on my starting team
(To the hoop, y'all, watch out, watch out)
(In yo face, here comes the rest)
Clyde, Rick Barry, and Pistol Pete
Now these
And all my niggas up north that's doin' it big
Oh yeah I'm rare, I'm aware that I'm rare
I rap and I'm real, I'm one of the few here
These other boys
Get your ass off the wall with your two left feet
It's real easy, just follow the beat
Don't let that fine girl pass you by
Look real close 'cause
my boy
Watch the sunset kick back in my yard
Take my harley on a real long lazy Sunday drive
And do a little more nothin' once in a while
Yeah
and titties, ass and titties she laugh and giggle and smahin from city to city
[Chorus]
[D-loc:]
J Rick double dash yeah
We get it crackin' Big Krizz,
real
Rollin down the street with heat
Drankin' trees, sittin' on D's
Top rolled back so I can feel the breeze
Never slippin', I keep my eyes on my
Uh
1st & (1st &) 15th (15th)
Woah, uh!
Lupe Fiasco's Food & Liquor
Is lovingly, hand-crafted and done
By the good folks, at 1st & 15th, yeah!
independent, I'm my own boss
Water on the wrist like Voss
And I flex Rick Ross
Lookin' at your car, that ain't no Bentayga
I know if that boy get locked up, he
the cost
Water drip like voss
Brand new fit I'm drippin sauce
How much sauce, nigga too much sauce
Too much money my pockets Rick Ross
If we won you
Cold blooded killers
Straight spitters
Just spitting hip hop
Man I feel like Rick Ross
We gon hit the tip top
Got my shit up in my crew socks
I gotta
Fat bitch, hell nah, I be blowing fuckin heat
Bitch you better call Saul (What?)
50 free, Rick Ross
Big titty bitches shaking ass down the hall (Baaah)
_(cropped).jpg/218px-Rick_Ross_The_Mastermind_Tour_June_15,_2014_Toronto_(14590434716)_(cropped).jpg "Rick Ross")
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