Rick Ross
Текст песни Mafia music

I got a feelin nigga wit it and my money be da root
Look up at da stars, she like "Honey where da roof?"
Pull up in a Dawes, canaries dey go on roof
Even once had a job pourin tar up on da roof

Dat boy had it hard, no facade it's da truth
So now when I menage and get massaged it's da proof
Proof's in da pudding and dat bakin soda taken
Paper dat I'm makin, gotta take dem photos naked

Listenin to ni*gas like whistlin dat Wendy Williams
I flip my middle finga, I'm chillin on twenty million
Da rumors turn me on I'm masterbatin at da top
These hoes so excited so dey catchin every drop

I'm dodgin debacles like pot holes in Jamaica
We cut down the weed, bury the paper on dem acres
Martin had a dream, Bob got high
I still do both but somehow I got by

Preflo prayed, Mike Vick payed
Bobby Brown strayed, Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on da pad when I write
Dat may why the money lookin funny in the light

But who really cares? You just throw it in the air
Celebratin wealth, pourin Moet in her hair
Excuse me, her weeve - the bluest of weed
Trunk full of white, car smell like bleu cheese

Dat boy get salad, beef bout movements
BM dubs on dem big thangs lookin foolish
Shawty sittin low, big thangs poppin
Tip on da glock from a trip up in Compton

Shootin at da cops f*ck one time
I gave her to da block, I f*cked one time
We boys in da hood and ni*ga you Lil' Trey
Suppress ya appetite, we takin ya lil' tray

Love my handgun but my choppa still da shit
Banned in 1994 but I'm too legit to quit
1996, kilos was the sh*t
But dat were better den roofin dat shit be bad for ya skin

Ni*gas was ruthless, lord knows dat I sinned
But I thought about my future and the loops I could pin
Walked out on a gig and I turned to da streets
Kept my name low key, I ain't heard from in weeks

I came up with a strategy to come up mathematically
I did it for da city but now everybody mad at me
Mothaf*ck em all, they sweat from my balls
If I drop anotha album I did dat fo my dawgs

10 Maybachs, everybody ridin big
I just sit back like: Look what I did
Den I bow my head and beg for forgiveness
Once I said my prayer, everybody back to business

Smokin on a blunt in my own restaurant
People lookin from a distance think I'm Big Daddy Kunk
Reincarnated, spirit of a G
Beef? I'll make u dinner, take a seat so we could eat

A Farrakhan aura, paws on the Port
You eat from da bowl while ya dog need a fork
Ni*gas ain't loyal, snakes slithered in dey coil
I'm laughin at you cuz, kill you niggas when I'm bored

We steppin on ya crew til the mothaf*ckas crushed
And makin sweet love to every women dat ya lust
I love to pay her bills, can't wait to pay her rent
Curtis Jackson baby mama ain't askin for a cent

Burn the house down, we gotta buy another
Don't forget the gas can, jealous, stupid muthaf*cka
To anotha chapter, paper dat I captured
Caught up in da rapture of gunshots and laughter

Homicide is human and ni*ga you lookin funny
Women love to stare cause dey know dey see da money
I open up a mind by openin bank accounts
Deposit a 100 stacks, break up or take it out

Baby dats a gift, maybe you could live
I knew it wouldn't work, but I just like to give
Used to run da street - young ni*ga, bare feet
Now I'm in da suites and I'm eatin crab meats

Ice so right, otha rappers envy
Dey callin all my jewelers up askin wat he spendin
Thinkin bout Boss, not thinkin bout dem
This a letter to my enemies, one I won't send