Lyrics:
We around when the sun goes down
And the real, real killers they mourn for ya
It's gonna be a bloodshed
One month, one day it's gonna be a bloodshed
a couple thou' on my pants, I'ma cash cow
Every day I'm on cash route, big dog, make a nigga back down
Rick Ross, pockets all fat now, did it without
thou' on my pants, I'ma cash cow
Every day I'm on cash route, big dog, make a nigga back down
Rick Ross, pockets all fat now, did it without the crack
raise the stats
No fucking around around all we do is state facts
Tick Tock make that ass pop
Throw them hunnits up like you rick ross
Bitches in
it by my lonely now I'm the big homie
But I'm his royal slickness, ghetto weakness, come Rick is
The one who expose cornball rappers with
the smoke, don't care where it goes
Tryna see 'cause she wanna show
The way she walks, it's like she knows (ooh)
Freez-y, drip like Wheezy (ice)
Choose what's
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
gloss, cadillac got a wide body like rick ross
Took time but my cash got right,
If I want it I'm a buy it I don't ask no price
Rear view mirror,
a throwback like a Thursday
We kept it gutta like the pjs
All my n****s riding like a relay
F**k what he say she say “huh”
Broke bum n***a get back
F**k around
again, Rick Ross
I got means to ends I got the leaves to stems, picked off
Blowing smoke ya I'm not pissed off
All you pussies need lip gloss
You too dry
It's getting real
But I aint Scurry
Oh there it goes im trippin balls
Hope I don't fall off
Get fired by the boss
Close call
He was talking too much
around the block while I'm pissing everybody
Trust nobody that's what the world taught me
Father why have you forsaken me? Can't you see these goddamn
Rick Missy's
Everybody in Wu Tang, Tech N9ne, Common and ASAP
Luda, Proof, Jadakiss, Rick Ross speaking of Maybach
Yeah truly underrated when I enter
Know that some niggas
Gon hop on the wave
when they see us in big bodies
Could give a fuck
What these niggas be sayin
I know they don't live by it
I
it by my lonely now I'm the big homie
But I'm his royal slickness, ghetto weakness, come Rick is
The one who expose cornball rappers with
heart back where it used to lie
I'm a fraud to the game, call me Mike fucking Ross
Snatched outta golf by a nigga wearing Golf
Now I wreck it Ralph,
Big ole bag like Santa Claus
Love Benjamin like hold on pause
Drive double R I'm not Rick Ross
Take his bitch like Randy Moss
With the gang she
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
Rick Ross:]
Ross
Niggas better back up
I ain't even help so he call me for back up (back up)
That big boss never slacks up
Ready for these pussy ass
prove
What comes around goes around
What comes around goes around
What comes around goes around
Can't catch a break
Met you by mistake
I should've let you
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
dirty is what I'll do ya
I'll, I'll use the cig, the pump or the german luger
I'll, I'll be the shooter, I'll, I'll be the shooter
I'll, I'll use
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
hood)
If you not from here you can walk it out
And you not hood if you don't know what I'm talking 'bout
Ross
Yeah, .45 off in the ride
Four
_(cropped).jpg/218px-Rick_Ross_The_Mastermind_Tour_June_15,_2014_Toronto_(14590434716)_(cropped).jpg "Rick Ross")
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