Lyrics:
opps
No caps
Only me
No fashion week,
I don't have weed
Music in my mind, all i need
No smoke
Già ciò tosse
Sick
Maybe one day rich
Like Rick Ross
Ricco
It's the Butterscotch Boss
Whole body covered in gold
Whole body covered in frost (Damn)
It's the white Rick Ross
Riding around in the Phantom
Eating
Before she breaks
And the abuse seals up her faith
Or will she grab the gun out the case
Before he awakes
And squeeze the trigger right in his face
All my
dem
Mi a the demon yah know
Mi just call fi me legion yah know
Bust out dem head middle day
Mi nah leave none yah know
Rick Ross all evil yah know
Born
hop boss
invested time badly now I'm coming out a loss
Swati boy, skinny and I'm no Rick Ross
I wanna hear the dealer say the maybach's
all yours
Yes
in it, Bay reppin' it
Alameda, don't step in it
Used to stay there, now I stay where young Icarus went to daycare
Hey, there! All you little kids
had a drugs party in 526.
The flick knives were all they found,
Ross had lots of fun bending down.
Stranded in the smoke, get out of that.
Wilf
YOU MOP THE FLOOR WITH ME
By Robert Ross
Verse 1
I NEVER HAD MUCH LUCK
JUST A WHOLE LOT OF SOUL
BUT I GOT THE BRAINS TO SEE
YOU?RE GONNA WALK
If I had a dick, it would be soft
'Cause you talkin' too much, now I'm peed off
I'ma fuck you real good, take my weave off
I'ma would if I could,
ROUGH ?N? TOUGH
AKA: Ruff ?n? Tuff
(Music & Lyrics by Robert Ross)
Verse 1
Well don't you touch me fella cause if I get riled
I know you won't
I'm irrelevant, benevolent, I'm bout To go celebate
My dick been to decisive, I been left To my devices
You can take it all baby, can I just Have
StardustSZN)
I'm all about money, can't go out a junkie
Let's go out the country, I love to take chances
Tryna be funny, this Glock 40 chunky
If you
need a Tic-Tac
Fuck around you get hit by real shooters
You be talking hella shit, but its from behind a computer
You be talking all that shit, and had
by
Donnie Katana ooh, I told the truth (Brr)
I never lied to you (O oh) i told the truth
I never lied to you brr, brr
Hey-a hey-a hey
Paris, Chanel
I took a fish out my cooter
Then I got ran over by a scooter
My pussy fat I call her pooter
You are so stupid you need a tutor
I look at the stuff
the feds neva find the stash
Bitch I come in first never last
Took yo bitch grab her by the ass
I pull up and dip once I smash
Roll a blunt and fill it full
foot in the grave
But before I die let me tell you this
I'mma ball on you niggas, I can tell your pissed
Talk about I took your wife out all night
Who the fuck you think you fuckin with im a fuckin earner
Ring the fuckin fire alarm here come the money burners
my money burnin, my money burnin, my
they'll get even
Odds are beyond y'all, achievin peaceful means of seekin deacons
Ain't no way out, they 'bout beat, by any means
Ain't necessary but they
literate, literally you can feel that shit
And that's brick by brick
No manual, no plan at all, I had to build that shit (had to build that shit)
But I'm
Pub./Ross Island Music(SESAC) All rights reserved. Used by permission.
Uh, runnin away everytime that I hear this track
Mm, gun in da brain figurative I might steer it back
Mm, slippin the day I find I Lie by a melody
be clean
Beats great, but you can't rhyme, when they hear it they try and diminish
Suns down, and it's demon time, let's get it, I hope we don't finish
a mexican, took X again
want sex again
Jot it down, it was told to me
by that boy, A.K.A. The P-O-E
[Hook] - 4X
[Verse Two]
Deep in ya brain, the nigga you
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