"Push it to the limit"
"Everyday I'm hustlin'"
"Ten years later time for me to cash out"
Now here are some interesting facts about the mastermind
Which give you an idea of how important it is
And how necessary that you embrace this principal
And make use of it in attaining success in your chosen occupation
First of all, it is the principal through which you may borrow
And use the education, the experience, the influence
And perhaps the capital of other people in carrying out your own plans in life
It is the principle through which you can accomplish in one year more
Than you could accomplish without it in the lifetime
If you depend entirely upon your own efforts for success
There is no such thing as something for nothing
Everything, including your personal success, has a price that must be paid
I just upped my stock, f*ck them cops
If you love hip-hop bust them shots
Rick Ross - Hood Billionaire Album Lyrics
Rick Ross - Hood Billionaire Lyrics
Writer: WILLIAM ROBERTS, KHALED KHALED
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Hood Billionaire
Kilo at the telly, bitch it's Makiaveli
Double M empire, I know these niggas fear me
I'm already rich, I'm tired of bein' famous
I done f*cked all these bitches, I can't even name 'em
But if the bitch is bad, bring 'er, yellow stone on my finger
Mink coat, mine cheetah, before I f*ck I'm gon' eat her
All I talk is that cash, Versace all in my bag
Dope all in my vein, hoes hollin' my name
White T still pimpin', Lenox Mall in a Bentley
He a f*ckboy, that's simple, I ain't into what he into
Hoes wave to my window, keep a pile of that endo
I always got bond money, you don't know what I've been through
Carol City niggas, still 187
Lil' Haiti niggas, still 211
Open lockin' niggas, still got them quarters (oh yeah)
Overtime niggas (billionaire), still movin' water
Let me show you how to get right, whip an ounce of that white
Fast forward to a brick, now you livin' that life
I can get you out of my hood, I'm a billionaire in my hood
Tryna buy a piece of the Dolphins, five percent of them good
Huh, now I think I'm Don Shula
Pull up with 20 bitches on the hundred footer
All white me gusta, oh hallelujah
Oh hallelujah, oh I maneuver
Memphis niggas, still get it right (Tennessee)
Mississippi niggas still get it right (Las Vegas)
Florida boys, know we gonna get it right (f*ckboys)
Alabama hustlers, you gon' get it right (Alabama)
I went and bought your bitch a washer and a dryer
Seen it in your son's face, I'm who he admires
Rules of the game, jack of all trades
Icy on the court at the basketball games
Nigga, tell your pops I got a million dollar watch
All you fake watch bustas, I'm the one to watch
Rolls Royce fake and my two yachts fake
30 Franchises, show you what this pot make
Make the most in the Ghost, f*ck Huffington Post
Young brother Rolls, Belaire Rose, I'm makin' a toast
At the Heat game, talkin' all cash
Still tweetin' while ya'll eatin' out of our trash
Chi-town niggas, we gon' get it right (Detroit)
New York niggas, time to get it right (Jersey waddap)
Philly niggas, know we gon' get it right
Dreamchasers niggas, we gon' get it right
Shoot and run nigga, we gon' get it right
305 Niggas, we gon' get it right
20 For the bird, better get it right
Got a bag of money, nigga get it right
If you owe me somethin', better get it right
Hood billionaire, time to get it right
Hundred million nigga 'til I get it right
Hundred million nigga 'til I get it right (hundred billionaire)
(Hundred billionaire)
(See the world my way)
(Hundred billionaire)
(Hundred billionaire)
Double M empire, I know these niggas fear me
I'm already rich, I'm tired of bein' famous
I done f*cked all these bitches, I can't even name 'em
But if the bitch is bad, bring 'er, yellow stone on my finger
Mink coat, mine cheetah, before I f*ck I'm gon' eat her
All I talk is that cash, Versace all in my bag
Dope all in my vein, hoes hollin' my name
White T still pimpin', Lenox Mall in a Bentley
He a f*ckboy, that's simple, I ain't into what he into
Hoes wave to my window, keep a pile of that endo
I always got bond money, you don't know what I've been through
Carol City niggas, still 187
Lil' Haiti niggas, still 211
Open lockin' niggas, still got them quarters (oh yeah)
Overtime niggas (billionaire), still movin' water
Let me show you how to get right, whip an ounce of that white
Fast forward to a brick, now you livin' that life
I can get you out of my hood, I'm a billionaire in my hood
Tryna buy a piece of the Dolphins, five percent of them good
Huh, now I think I'm Don Shula
Pull up with 20 bitches on the hundred footer
All white me gusta, oh hallelujah
Oh hallelujah, oh I maneuver
Memphis niggas, still get it right (Tennessee)
Mississippi niggas still get it right (Las Vegas)
Florida boys, know we gonna get it right (f*ckboys)
Alabama hustlers, you gon' get it right (Alabama)
I went and bought your bitch a washer and a dryer
Seen it in your son's face, I'm who he admires
Rules of the game, jack of all trades
Icy on the court at the basketball games
Nigga, tell your pops I got a million dollar watch
All you fake watch bustas, I'm the one to watch
Rolls Royce fake and my two yachts fake
30 Franchises, show you what this pot make
Make the most in the Ghost, f*ck Huffington Post
Young brother Rolls, Belaire Rose, I'm makin' a toast
At the Heat game, talkin' all cash
Still tweetin' while ya'll eatin' out of our trash
Chi-town niggas, we gon' get it right (Detroit)
New York niggas, time to get it right (Jersey waddap)
Philly niggas, know we gon' get it right
Dreamchasers niggas, we gon' get it right
Shoot and run nigga, we gon' get it right
305 Niggas, we gon' get it right
20 For the bird, better get it right
Got a bag of money, nigga get it right
If you owe me somethin', better get it right
Hood billionaire, time to get it right
Hundred million nigga 'til I get it right
Hundred million nigga 'til I get it right (hundred billionaire)
(Hundred billionaire)
(See the world my way)
(Hundred billionaire)
(Hundred billionaire)
Writer: William Roberts II
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Coke Like The 80s
[Sample:]
Okay last time, this is drugs
This is your brain on drugs
Any questions?
[Intro:]
Welcome home George Jung (RIP McBride)
The real Boston George
It's that Dade Country yayo shit
Double MOB
I'm finny take these pussy niggas down
Beat Billionaire
[Hook:]
I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, in my all white Mercedes
I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, in my coke white Mercedes
[Verse 1]
All white, nigga, Big Ike, nigga
Keep shooters with me, you'll call your gravesite nigga
15th Ave, miracle nigga
Get [?], come and get a few nigga
John Doe nigga, you know that convo
Get you that weed and white, want you a combo nigga
Checkmate with the sticks, identify by your kicks
Welcome home to Skinner, already bought him a brick
Boobie Gang was the clique, forever changed the game
Bunky Brown was a legend, Wayne Parker the mane (Vonda)
Carol City success, 183rd still a rout
We live in the jungle, fishtanks in the house
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Bo dealin' nigga, oh really nigga?
Bunche Park hot, it's a block full of killas
Lil' Trav, nigga
Execution upcomin', 'bout that lil' tab nigga
River City, they slide, aka homicide
Rest in peace to the Goonies, one day we'll be eye to eye
It is what it is, I left the vest at the crib
Extended the clip, I'ma give 'em the biz
Catch you jackin' your dick, now you f*cked in the game
Leave you flat on your back, where you lay was a stain
A mil' in the hole is every real nigga goal
And this uncut like Ochoa, they want your crumbs off the floor
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
My new bitch, she a waitress, strip club is a trap
Stick my dick in her pussy when she come sit on my lap
Get that paper, my plug, he sent that pack from Bahamas
It's uncut like the 80's, 17 still my number
Candy paint on my donk, Jesus piece on my charm
[?], she just wanted a bump
Her man wanted a line, so I sold 'em a verse
Sold a quarter for 9, and I sold 'em the vert
Can't be takin' them trips, for that flea market whip
Peep this Rollie fugazy, I'm sellin' game to a pimp
Line up all of my bitches, head crack 'em and check 'em
Even if she barefooted, I bet the streets gon' respect her
[Hook]
Okay last time, this is drugs
This is your brain on drugs
Any questions?
[Intro:]
Welcome home George Jung (RIP McBride)
The real Boston George
It's that Dade Country yayo shit
Double MOB
I'm finny take these pussy niggas down
Beat Billionaire
[Hook:]
I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, in my all white Mercedes
I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, in my coke white Mercedes
[Verse 1]
All white, nigga, Big Ike, nigga
Keep shooters with me, you'll call your gravesite nigga
15th Ave, miracle nigga
Get [?], come and get a few nigga
John Doe nigga, you know that convo
Get you that weed and white, want you a combo nigga
Checkmate with the sticks, identify by your kicks
Welcome home to Skinner, already bought him a brick
Boobie Gang was the clique, forever changed the game
Bunky Brown was a legend, Wayne Parker the mane (Vonda)
Carol City success, 183rd still a rout
We live in the jungle, fishtanks in the house
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Bo dealin' nigga, oh really nigga?
Bunche Park hot, it's a block full of killas
Lil' Trav, nigga
Execution upcomin', 'bout that lil' tab nigga
River City, they slide, aka homicide
Rest in peace to the Goonies, one day we'll be eye to eye
It is what it is, I left the vest at the crib
Extended the clip, I'ma give 'em the biz
Catch you jackin' your dick, now you f*cked in the game
Leave you flat on your back, where you lay was a stain
A mil' in the hole is every real nigga goal
And this uncut like Ochoa, they want your crumbs off the floor
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
My new bitch, she a waitress, strip club is a trap
Stick my dick in her pussy when she come sit on my lap
Get that paper, my plug, he sent that pack from Bahamas
It's uncut like the 80's, 17 still my number
Candy paint on my donk, Jesus piece on my charm
[?], she just wanted a bump
Her man wanted a line, so I sold 'em a verse
Sold a quarter for 9, and I sold 'em the vert
Can't be takin' them trips, for that flea market whip
Peep this Rollie fugazy, I'm sellin' game to a pimp
Line up all of my bitches, head crack 'em and check 'em
Even if she barefooted, I bet the streets gon' respect her
[Hook]
Writer: SHAMANN COOKE, WILLIAM ROBERTS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Heavyweight
[Intro - Whole Slab:]
Look at nigga Rozay, look at him
Out there with that CrossFit shit
Nigga think he a boxer, workin' out and shit
Nigga done bought Holyfield crib, nigga
Five hundred acres, a thousand rooms, nigga
This nigga think he the champ
Holyfield must have left a belt in that bitch for him
Ya dig?
[Hook - Rick Ross:]
I been touchin' that set, I made my way to a key
I'm so in love with the trap, I bought a house 'cross the street
Quarter key got me livin' like I'm Don King
Heavyweight, I'm in the ring nigga, ding ding
Nigga, ding ding
Nigga, ding ding
Don't make me hit you 'cross your head, nigga, ding ding
Runnin' off with all your things, ding ding
[Verse 1 - Whole Slab:]
License been suspended, ridin' with the yay
I shit where I eat, I trap where I stay
Smokin', bottle poppin', Belaire Rose
And I don't give a f*ck what pussy niggas say
Michelangelo of this trap game
Traded fifteen pounds of mid for a half a thing
We mix that eighteen, now it's thirty-six
Turned that midget to a brick, that's a pretty flip
Shout out Mally Mall, I got a few bitches
I don't get my dick sucked, unless it's two bitches
My trap Mike Tyson, nigga, heavyweight
I'm sleepin' in the trap, we open every day
I'm parkin' on my block, I'm beatin' on my street
Twelve all in my ass, they locked my [?] last week
These niggas know they pussy, talkin' bout they robbin'
Talkin' bout they eatin', these niggas out here starvin'
[Hook - Rick Ross]
[Verse 2 - Rick Ross:]
Diamonds on my pinky, women on my dizzle
Bulletproof the Lincoln, there go Ricky Rizzle
I'm the Thrilla in Manila, Belaire, my Ciroc vanilla
My cousin certified killer
When he died, I know I cried a river
You come and go, that came down from the Lord
Every night I hear those AKs like a f*ckin' voice.
Hallelujah, momma screamin' "Hallelujah"
Pray for your son cause momma, you had you a shooter
For this cocaine, they standin' in this cold rain
In pneumonia weather tryna move that whole thing
Heat game, season tickets, that's for my whole team
'88 Mike Tyson, that's with the gold teeth
Heavyweight, Don King, Robin Givens, big dreams
[Hook - Rick Ross]
Look at nigga Rozay, look at him
Out there with that CrossFit shit
Nigga think he a boxer, workin' out and shit
Nigga done bought Holyfield crib, nigga
Five hundred acres, a thousand rooms, nigga
This nigga think he the champ
Holyfield must have left a belt in that bitch for him
Ya dig?
[Hook - Rick Ross:]
I been touchin' that set, I made my way to a key
I'm so in love with the trap, I bought a house 'cross the street
Quarter key got me livin' like I'm Don King
Heavyweight, I'm in the ring nigga, ding ding
Nigga, ding ding
Nigga, ding ding
Don't make me hit you 'cross your head, nigga, ding ding
Runnin' off with all your things, ding ding
[Verse 1 - Whole Slab:]
License been suspended, ridin' with the yay
I shit where I eat, I trap where I stay
Smokin', bottle poppin', Belaire Rose
And I don't give a f*ck what pussy niggas say
Michelangelo of this trap game
Traded fifteen pounds of mid for a half a thing
We mix that eighteen, now it's thirty-six
Turned that midget to a brick, that's a pretty flip
Shout out Mally Mall, I got a few bitches
I don't get my dick sucked, unless it's two bitches
My trap Mike Tyson, nigga, heavyweight
I'm sleepin' in the trap, we open every day
I'm parkin' on my block, I'm beatin' on my street
Twelve all in my ass, they locked my [?] last week
These niggas know they pussy, talkin' bout they robbin'
Talkin' bout they eatin', these niggas out here starvin'
[Hook - Rick Ross]
[Verse 2 - Rick Ross:]
Diamonds on my pinky, women on my dizzle
Bulletproof the Lincoln, there go Ricky Rizzle
I'm the Thrilla in Manila, Belaire, my Ciroc vanilla
My cousin certified killer
When he died, I know I cried a river
You come and go, that came down from the Lord
Every night I hear those AKs like a f*ckin' voice.
Hallelujah, momma screamin' "Hallelujah"
Pray for your son cause momma, you had you a shooter
For this cocaine, they standin' in this cold rain
In pneumonia weather tryna move that whole thing
Heat game, season tickets, that's for my whole team
'88 Mike Tyson, that's with the gold teeth
Heavyweight, Don King, Robin Givens, big dreams
[Hook - Rick Ross]
Writer: RICK ROSS, LASANA SMITH, SHAMANN COOKE
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Neighborhood Drug Dealer
Uh, I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
Uh, it's your neighborhood drug dealer
I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
Neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
One, two, what it be?
Michael Jordan, white, bitch, 23
Bet you hear my pipes rev when I tip the scale
Rich forever, still a muscle and it never fails
You a house nigga so they let you get the mail
We in the back whippin' egg whites and crackin' shells
Robin jeans for my team, pocket for the sale
Pussy niggas gossip pray you die from gonorrhea
Al Capone where I'm from that Benzo bullet proof
Neighborhood dope boy you can get it too
F*ck them pussy niggas catch they ass at Smoothie Kings
Hundred missed calls after that new toolie rings
Skip South Beach bitch bring it to the bridge
For that change, put that thing right up to your ribs
Uh, I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
Neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
One, two, what it be?
Michael Jordan, white, bitch, 23
Chevy SS, she heard I bump fire
Got grow houses up and down through Pembroke Pines
Say the streets count, I say it's 'bout time
Bail hop, on my mama, been about mine
Still pay my child support, in all trap money
All 5's and 10's, can't touch my rap money
She won't f*ck with me, I'm hatin', yeah her pussy stank
Meet your migo mama then you crack the piggie bank
Dope boy dream, never lose it all
Montgomery Alabama know we love the send 'em soft
Baton Rouge's a Actavis and act a fool
Neighborhood dope boy you should hit me too
Uh, I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
Neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
One, two, what it be?
Michael Jordan, white, bitch, 23
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
Uh, it's your neighborhood drug dealer
I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
Neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
One, two, what it be?
Michael Jordan, white, bitch, 23
Bet you hear my pipes rev when I tip the scale
Rich forever, still a muscle and it never fails
You a house nigga so they let you get the mail
We in the back whippin' egg whites and crackin' shells
Robin jeans for my team, pocket for the sale
Pussy niggas gossip pray you die from gonorrhea
Al Capone where I'm from that Benzo bullet proof
Neighborhood dope boy you can get it too
F*ck them pussy niggas catch they ass at Smoothie Kings
Hundred missed calls after that new toolie rings
Skip South Beach bitch bring it to the bridge
For that change, put that thing right up to your ribs
Uh, I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
Neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
One, two, what it be?
Michael Jordan, white, bitch, 23
Chevy SS, she heard I bump fire
Got grow houses up and down through Pembroke Pines
Say the streets count, I say it's 'bout time
Bail hop, on my mama, been about mine
Still pay my child support, in all trap money
All 5's and 10's, can't touch my rap money
She won't f*ck with me, I'm hatin', yeah her pussy stank
Meet your migo mama then you crack the piggie bank
Dope boy dream, never lose it all
Montgomery Alabama know we love the send 'em soft
Baton Rouge's a Actavis and act a fool
Neighborhood dope boy you should hit me too
Uh, I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
I'm your neighborhood drug dealer
Neighborhood drug dealer
It's your neighborhood drug dealer
One, two, what it be?
Michael Jordan, white, bitch, 23
Writer: Rick Ross, Wayne Leland
Copyright: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing
Phone Tap
[Hook:]
I think a nigga phone tapped
Wanna give me time for my old raps
Indict me for my own raps
I think a nigga phone tapped
I think a nigga phone tapped
If you callin' me, I think your phone tapped
My phone tapped
Got a feelin' that my phone tapped
[Verse 1:]
18 nigga wildin', trafficin' with a pilot
Crazy net worth, Miami bred the tyrants
First day of trial, courtroom was silent
Till the wiretap replayed back the dialect
Had tears in my eyes as you took your oath
Sweaty palms have on niggas who be touchin' dope
Open the doors, smell the Pyrex in the air
I'm dealin' raw, D-boys so debonair
In the barber shop, it's known that I can sell a pair
Count to forty-five before that man could shave his head
Pistol underneath the apron as I'm in the chair
Raise it to my neck, I tip a hundred for the beard
[Hook]
[Verse 2:]
My right hand, I knew him since fourth grade
'88, afros with no fades
Fist fights, the box Chevys on blades
Chief all they gave us the rules to play
They trynna paint a picture of a hungry nigga
Another lion runnin' in the jungle with us
Told the bitches we was brothers, shared the same people
Introduce you to my mother, made sure you eatin'
Now you hangin' out with different people on the weekend
Quotin' different numbers nigga, like I wouldn't peep it
If it's war, here come murder, cause that come the cheapest
Call me on my sister phone, keep it on some G shit
[Hook]
[Verse 3:]
Niggas tellin' cause the jealous, look at what I'm wearin'
They want me in the prison when I'm just apparent
Quarter million in Atlanta, boy I had some talent
Throw a stack in Magic City, make a hater panic
305 nigga, ridin' in the Chevy
Count a half a milli in a couple seconds
F*ck two bitches then I want seconds
Richest nigga in the city, boy I broke some records
Puttin' spinners on your cars, suspendin' on the smoke
What your spendin' on your home, spendin' on the boat
Everybody watchin', everybody tellin'
When your days numbered, nigga, cherish every second
[Hook]
I think a nigga phone tapped
Wanna give me time for my old raps
Indict me for my own raps
I think a nigga phone tapped
I think a nigga phone tapped
If you callin' me, I think your phone tapped
My phone tapped
Got a feelin' that my phone tapped
[Verse 1:]
18 nigga wildin', trafficin' with a pilot
Crazy net worth, Miami bred the tyrants
First day of trial, courtroom was silent
Till the wiretap replayed back the dialect
Had tears in my eyes as you took your oath
Sweaty palms have on niggas who be touchin' dope
Open the doors, smell the Pyrex in the air
I'm dealin' raw, D-boys so debonair
In the barber shop, it's known that I can sell a pair
Count to forty-five before that man could shave his head
Pistol underneath the apron as I'm in the chair
Raise it to my neck, I tip a hundred for the beard
[Hook]
[Verse 2:]
My right hand, I knew him since fourth grade
'88, afros with no fades
Fist fights, the box Chevys on blades
Chief all they gave us the rules to play
They trynna paint a picture of a hungry nigga
Another lion runnin' in the jungle with us
Told the bitches we was brothers, shared the same people
Introduce you to my mother, made sure you eatin'
Now you hangin' out with different people on the weekend
Quotin' different numbers nigga, like I wouldn't peep it
If it's war, here come murder, cause that come the cheapest
Call me on my sister phone, keep it on some G shit
[Hook]
[Verse 3:]
Niggas tellin' cause the jealous, look at what I'm wearin'
They want me in the prison when I'm just apparent
Quarter million in Atlanta, boy I had some talent
Throw a stack in Magic City, make a hater panic
305 nigga, ridin' in the Chevy
Count a half a milli in a couple seconds
F*ck two bitches then I want seconds
Richest nigga in the city, boy I broke some records
Puttin' spinners on your cars, suspendin' on the smoke
What your spendin' on your home, spendin' on the boat
Everybody watchin', everybody tellin'
When your days numbered, nigga, cherish every second
[Hook]
Writer: BUDDY DEFRANCO, FLORA PURIM, RICK ROSS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Trap Luv
[Intro - Yo Gotti:]
I'm in a jungle
Lions, tigers and gorillas and shit nigga
It's a lot of monkey ass niggas out here too
'Lotta hustle nigga
Rules, laws, strategy
[Verse 1 - Yo Gotti:]
10 million dollars later I'm a blessing nigga
How a nigga rich but still stressing nigga
Glock .40, Smith & Wesson nigga
Streets will never ever stop testing niggas
Youngin' give 'em a head shot, send a message nigga
Part rapper, part goon, still finessing nigga
I believe in hustle I don't f*ck with luck
And it's f*ck em kill em all if they don't f*ck with us
Them three letters mean a lot boy, sacrifices
Cocaine Mafia, double check the prices
Niggas killing niggas like they got a license
Niggas crossing over like they Allen Iverson
F*ck that iPhone 6, they be tracking niggas
I'm about to get a beeper, fade to black on niggas
Gotti, goodnight, I'm gone
I be back when they quit living through phones
When niggas put the gram down and pick the grams up
You got follows but no dollars man that shit ain't adding up
Nah, and all the dirt I done, all the bricks I sold
I can't sleep at night, paranoid it shows
I be strapped on stage, f*ck the award show
Cause I shoot this bitch up and only God knows
[Skit:]
Yeah like I told you a long time ago fam, y'all gon' hold it against you. I keep fighting doing this to y'all. Every time I get something in the mail whether it's favorable or not from the courts, I keep putting it down because y'all are my motivation. I appreciate the love
[Verse 2 - Rick Ross:]
Niggas riding gold rims and they mama po'
And they kill a family member for that envelope
I'm the Lionel Richie to these Commodores
We flip pies to franchising Dominoes
I speak for dope boys every track I'm on
Until this day my people never rat or told
Posted 20 in, I'm talking fed pen
The line between us both have gained so very thin
Amongst my boys of W.E.B. Du Bois
Souls of black folk to hustle wasn't a choice
Rap game everybody skimming off the top
F*ck interest as long as you pull it off the lock
Hoes on the f*ck, haters wanna hate
Certified sack boy, black Ronald Reagan
Double M no longer that Buick Regal money
Nickel rock niggas so don't make me put a kilo on it
Negotiating for it or either we take it
Niggas even shooting choppers in a f*ckin' cadence
Fell out with some people that I still love
I guess that's how it goes when it's real blood
I remember counting cash standing in the trap
I turned my hat to the back, had a hundred stacks
60 m's later and 300 tax
Still losing weight with the south on my back, nigga
[Bridge x4:]
I pray you play by the rules
I came so close to the edge
[Outro - Rick Ross:]
Ain't no mercy young nigga
It's the jungle, locs
And I pray you rich forever
Gotti, I pray you rich forever
All my niggas I pray you rich forever
When you smokin' and you vibin' to this shit
I pray you rich forever my nigga
Hood Billionaire
I'm in a jungle
Lions, tigers and gorillas and shit nigga
It's a lot of monkey ass niggas out here too
'Lotta hustle nigga
Rules, laws, strategy
[Verse 1 - Yo Gotti:]
10 million dollars later I'm a blessing nigga
How a nigga rich but still stressing nigga
Glock .40, Smith & Wesson nigga
Streets will never ever stop testing niggas
Youngin' give 'em a head shot, send a message nigga
Part rapper, part goon, still finessing nigga
I believe in hustle I don't f*ck with luck
And it's f*ck em kill em all if they don't f*ck with us
Them three letters mean a lot boy, sacrifices
Cocaine Mafia, double check the prices
Niggas killing niggas like they got a license
Niggas crossing over like they Allen Iverson
F*ck that iPhone 6, they be tracking niggas
I'm about to get a beeper, fade to black on niggas
Gotti, goodnight, I'm gone
I be back when they quit living through phones
When niggas put the gram down and pick the grams up
You got follows but no dollars man that shit ain't adding up
Nah, and all the dirt I done, all the bricks I sold
I can't sleep at night, paranoid it shows
I be strapped on stage, f*ck the award show
Cause I shoot this bitch up and only God knows
[Skit:]
Yeah like I told you a long time ago fam, y'all gon' hold it against you. I keep fighting doing this to y'all. Every time I get something in the mail whether it's favorable or not from the courts, I keep putting it down because y'all are my motivation. I appreciate the love
[Verse 2 - Rick Ross:]
Niggas riding gold rims and they mama po'
And they kill a family member for that envelope
I'm the Lionel Richie to these Commodores
We flip pies to franchising Dominoes
I speak for dope boys every track I'm on
Until this day my people never rat or told
Posted 20 in, I'm talking fed pen
The line between us both have gained so very thin
Amongst my boys of W.E.B. Du Bois
Souls of black folk to hustle wasn't a choice
Rap game everybody skimming off the top
F*ck interest as long as you pull it off the lock
Hoes on the f*ck, haters wanna hate
Certified sack boy, black Ronald Reagan
Double M no longer that Buick Regal money
Nickel rock niggas so don't make me put a kilo on it
Negotiating for it or either we take it
Niggas even shooting choppers in a f*ckin' cadence
Fell out with some people that I still love
I guess that's how it goes when it's real blood
I remember counting cash standing in the trap
I turned my hat to the back, had a hundred stacks
60 m's later and 300 tax
Still losing weight with the south on my back, nigga
[Bridge x4:]
I pray you play by the rules
I came so close to the edge
[Outro - Rick Ross:]
Ain't no mercy young nigga
It's the jungle, locs
And I pray you rich forever
Gotti, I pray you rich forever
All my niggas I pray you rich forever
When you smokin' and you vibin' to this shit
I pray you rich forever my nigga
Hood Billionaire
Writer: WILLIE MAXWELL, HUNTER HAYES, TITUS PIKNEY
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Ultra Tunes
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Ultra Tunes
Elvis Presley BLVD
Hood Billionaire
Nigga need that quinine
I'm making more with the baking soda, don't hate on me
You know where I'm at though
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the dog food, the soft nigga and the hard
You can tell them crackers they can go and get the dogs
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the boy, got the girl and I got the heart
Tell them pussy crackers they can bring the dogs
I got Priscilla, I got Priscilla
I got vanilla, boy, I got vanilla
I been that nigga, I been that nigga
I bend that corner, I'm stacking scrilla
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the dog food, the soft nigga and the hard
You can tell them crackers they can go and get the dogs
My face familiar, my face familiar
Half a milli for the whip, this bitch'll hurt your feelings
I could fly Priscilla, send her in the mail
She got Meek Milly cellphone in the county jail
I'm at the car wash off on Elvis Presley BLVD
That nina hit your van, your ass gon' holla "good God"
You feel that itch, you feel that itch
That heroin moving fast, boy, I'm getting rich
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the dog food, the soft nigga and the hard
You can tell them crackers they can go and get the dogs
Run up in the trap, I push the panic button
Lil' 'Toine snorting coke, he ain't scared of nothing
Bumping Playa Fly until a player die
Charged 'em for the nine gram, but I gave em five
My baking soda fine, I'm baking over dimes
I got them brown bags, I bet they know it's mine
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Can I park an airplane in a nigga yard?
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the boy, got the girl and I got the heart
Tell them pussy crackers they can bring the dogs
Crushing them sleepin' pills up, I'm steppin' on the dawg
Breakin' down a half a thing, mane, get these puppies off
Hard work pays off, get more if you selling soft
Catch you slipping out here though, my dog, we knock your melon off
They cannot stunt, shoot them rifles long like African
Got them young boys shooting shit up like Africans
Me gold in me mouth, 'round my neck like leprechaun
Lamborghini or Ferrari, watch these bitches come
Stacking funds off the drugs, me go quick to rob the plug
Nigga mouth was full of slugs, left these bodies full of slugs
Met me on the south side of the city with a whole thing
Iced 'em with the heater, took his shit, it's a cold game
His niggas know I done it, now it's rumors they want my head
Got my Russian bitch sleeping with me right in the bed
My niggas killing about this shit, for realling about this shit
F*ck around and get a hundred years, dawg, about this shit
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the dog food, the soft nigga and the hard
You can tell them crackers they can go and get the dogs
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the boy, got the girl and I got the heart
Tell them pussy crackers they can bring the dogs
Nigga need that quinine
I'm making more with the baking soda, don't hate on me
You know where I'm at though
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the dog food, the soft nigga and the hard
You can tell them crackers they can go and get the dogs
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the boy, got the girl and I got the heart
Tell them pussy crackers they can bring the dogs
I got Priscilla, I got Priscilla
I got vanilla, boy, I got vanilla
I been that nigga, I been that nigga
I bend that corner, I'm stacking scrilla
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the dog food, the soft nigga and the hard
You can tell them crackers they can go and get the dogs
My face familiar, my face familiar
Half a milli for the whip, this bitch'll hurt your feelings
I could fly Priscilla, send her in the mail
She got Meek Milly cellphone in the county jail
I'm at the car wash off on Elvis Presley BLVD
That nina hit your van, your ass gon' holla "good God"
You feel that itch, you feel that itch
That heroin moving fast, boy, I'm getting rich
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the dog food, the soft nigga and the hard
You can tell them crackers they can go and get the dogs
Run up in the trap, I push the panic button
Lil' 'Toine snorting coke, he ain't scared of nothing
Bumping Playa Fly until a player die
Charged 'em for the nine gram, but I gave em five
My baking soda fine, I'm baking over dimes
I got them brown bags, I bet they know it's mine
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Can I park an airplane in a nigga yard?
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the boy, got the girl and I got the heart
Tell them pussy crackers they can bring the dogs
Crushing them sleepin' pills up, I'm steppin' on the dawg
Breakin' down a half a thing, mane, get these puppies off
Hard work pays off, get more if you selling soft
Catch you slipping out here though, my dog, we knock your melon off
They cannot stunt, shoot them rifles long like African
Got them young boys shooting shit up like Africans
Me gold in me mouth, 'round my neck like leprechaun
Lamborghini or Ferrari, watch these bitches come
Stacking funds off the drugs, me go quick to rob the plug
Nigga mouth was full of slugs, left these bodies full of slugs
Met me on the south side of the city with a whole thing
Iced 'em with the heater, took his shit, it's a cold game
His niggas know I done it, now it's rumors they want my head
Got my Russian bitch sleeping with me right in the bed
My niggas killing about this shit, for realling about this shit
F*ck around and get a hundred years, dawg, about this shit
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the dog food, the soft nigga and the hard
You can tell them crackers they can go and get the dogs
I'm riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Riding down Elvis Presley BLVD
Got the boy, got the girl and I got the heart
Tell them pussy crackers they can bring the dogs
Writer: Aldrin Davis, Arthur Ross, Leon Ware, Patrick Earl Houston, William Leonard II Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Movin Bass
[Intro:]
Ross is a real boss, cause real bosses don't go to jail feel what I'm saying?
So that's what I want y'all to know, you know what I mean?
As far as like his thinking patterns you know what I mean?
You know I admire y'all
The way y'all think you know what I'm saying?
And I also admire that I was apart of that foundation from day one
You know y'all was the good homies
Y'all took the baton and ran with it
The thing is that I was working towards was
The empire is what I was working towards
And y'all took the baton and ran with it so its nothing but love man
Anything y'all need me to do from behind these walls, I'mma do it
You know what I'm saying, without no question
[Verse 1 - Rick Ross:]
The pop wars, temp rises, a hot boy
Is the fat boy, skinny ties
Don't empty mine nigga
Tall ceilings, chandeliers, I'm authentic
Gettin' long money, short winded
Lets go and get it nigga
Bang bang, bitch niggas caught drinkin' chase
Roll that double M, get shot and your finger waves
Twenty chickens watchin' and I still be movin' that base
Gave a job to the children you scared to raise
Chain swangin', name rangin'
Shots fired, same nigga
We movin' weight I'm at a different pace
I'm out in Haïti with my lady screamin' "n'ap boule"
I'm hard to kill, Dade county, Versace Neil
Fourteen for that tattoo worth that dollar bill
Only one man got the combination to the safe
Grammy nominated once, but I'm still moving base
[Hook - Jay Z:]
See them plaques on a nigga wall
We still movin' bass
Got them records jumpin' off the store
We still movin' bass
Copper tried to knock us off
We still movin' bass
Haters throwin' shots through a niggas door
And we still movin' bass
[Verse 2 - Rick Ross:]
Fallin' from the sky, the money bad the bigger
Angels tatted all on me, pray for a lord sinner
Rolls Royce Corniche, sweepin' me off my feet
New bitches they by the fleet and we do em' all by the week
Taz Angels just wanna chill, jewelers just wanna meet
Weed man expnsive, three trips a week
Misses just wanna freak, feds stay up the street
Know they tellin' us close so we leak what we wanna leak
New mob, suit sharp, my suit Farrahkhan
In the house of the lord, my niggas bearin' arms
His eyes wide, nose runny got what he fiendin' for
I'm movin' base, we outta state you know my speakers low
Put the pistol to your mouth now show me to the safe
Grammy nominated once, but I'm still movin' bass
[Hook - Jay Z]
[Verse 3 - Rick Ross:]
You see the plaques on the wall but the yayo still in the spot
See me cousin off to college, I see that it costs a lot
Tallons fillin' the jammy, Miami still in my heart
Niggas playin' the corner, guess their playin' their part
Early coppin' the coupes, ladies stay on our feet
Your brother went to duplex
Smell the dope from across the street
Hoodies come in all flavors, all black if you think you sweet
Arabs sellin' grenades by the box, you'll get it cheap
Schoolin' the little niggas, kilos all in the campus
A passport is necessary visa with all the rubbers
I beef with all of the red cappers
Head to the shop for some tobacco (blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka!)
BR-80 just a plus don't mention the dust
R-O-C double M kill anything we touch
[Hook - Jay Z]
Ross is a real boss, cause real bosses don't go to jail feel what I'm saying?
So that's what I want y'all to know, you know what I mean?
As far as like his thinking patterns you know what I mean?
You know I admire y'all
The way y'all think you know what I'm saying?
And I also admire that I was apart of that foundation from day one
You know y'all was the good homies
Y'all took the baton and ran with it
The thing is that I was working towards was
The empire is what I was working towards
And y'all took the baton and ran with it so its nothing but love man
Anything y'all need me to do from behind these walls, I'mma do it
You know what I'm saying, without no question
[Verse 1 - Rick Ross:]
The pop wars, temp rises, a hot boy
Is the fat boy, skinny ties
Don't empty mine nigga
Tall ceilings, chandeliers, I'm authentic
Gettin' long money, short winded
Lets go and get it nigga
Bang bang, bitch niggas caught drinkin' chase
Roll that double M, get shot and your finger waves
Twenty chickens watchin' and I still be movin' that base
Gave a job to the children you scared to raise
Chain swangin', name rangin'
Shots fired, same nigga
We movin' weight I'm at a different pace
I'm out in Haïti with my lady screamin' "n'ap boule"
I'm hard to kill, Dade county, Versace Neil
Fourteen for that tattoo worth that dollar bill
Only one man got the combination to the safe
Grammy nominated once, but I'm still moving base
[Hook - Jay Z:]
See them plaques on a nigga wall
We still movin' bass
Got them records jumpin' off the store
We still movin' bass
Copper tried to knock us off
We still movin' bass
Haters throwin' shots through a niggas door
And we still movin' bass
[Verse 2 - Rick Ross:]
Fallin' from the sky, the money bad the bigger
Angels tatted all on me, pray for a lord sinner
Rolls Royce Corniche, sweepin' me off my feet
New bitches they by the fleet and we do em' all by the week
Taz Angels just wanna chill, jewelers just wanna meet
Weed man expnsive, three trips a week
Misses just wanna freak, feds stay up the street
Know they tellin' us close so we leak what we wanna leak
New mob, suit sharp, my suit Farrahkhan
In the house of the lord, my niggas bearin' arms
His eyes wide, nose runny got what he fiendin' for
I'm movin' base, we outta state you know my speakers low
Put the pistol to your mouth now show me to the safe
Grammy nominated once, but I'm still movin' bass
[Hook - Jay Z]
[Verse 3 - Rick Ross:]
You see the plaques on the wall but the yayo still in the spot
See me cousin off to college, I see that it costs a lot
Tallons fillin' the jammy, Miami still in my heart
Niggas playin' the corner, guess their playin' their part
Early coppin' the coupes, ladies stay on our feet
Your brother went to duplex
Smell the dope from across the street
Hoodies come in all flavors, all black if you think you sweet
Arabs sellin' grenades by the box, you'll get it cheap
Schoolin' the little niggas, kilos all in the campus
A passport is necessary visa with all the rubbers
I beef with all of the red cappers
Head to the shop for some tobacco (blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka!)
BR-80 just a plus don't mention the dust
R-O-C double M kill anything we touch
[Hook - Jay Z]
Writer: TIMOTHY Z. MOSLEY, SHAWN C. CARTER, CHRIS GODBEY, JEROME HARMON, WILLIAMS ROBERTS II
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP
If They Knew
This is so all bad, nothin' good can come from this
Sweet but sad (but said), I don't know love ruins a relationship
It will never last but it feels so good, guess I gotta deal with it
This is so all bad, this is so all bad
Got me messin' 'round with you
You got me messin' 'round with you
Out here messin' 'round with you
What you gon' say? (What you gon' say?)
What you gon' do? (What you gon' do?)
Baby if they knew?
I'm a G, she say the pain runs deep
But she can't run from me
I'm in these streets with the killers, thugs, and drug dealers
100 Mil' plus, in trucks with no ceilings
F*ck who don't feel it, I'm feelin' like I'm the realest
Biggest boss in the business and really that's to infinite (to infinite)
What we doin' wrong but it feels right
Can't discuss what we did the whole night
Won't be the last time, on my cash line
Duffel bags so accountant is the past time
And for the last time, I'm not a bad guy
I just like what I like, now shorty act right
Small waist, red weaves
Black car, keep it flyer than them Red Wings
Nightmares, day dreams
She the one, listen how she say things
This is so all bad, nothin' good can come from this
Sweet but sad (but said), I don't know love ruins a relationship
It will never last but it feels so good, guess I gotta deal with it
This is so all bad, this is so all bad
Got me messin' 'round with you
You got me messin' 'round with you
Out here messin' 'round with you
What you gon' say? (What you gon' say?)
What you gon' do? (What you gon' do?)
Baby if they knew?
She in love with the life, champagne and all the light
Chanel sneakers and scarves, I want you to be my wife
We can run around the world and tuck with no fear
G4, G5, whole team here
Call ourselves friends, but we holdin' hands
Got a lot of questions, am I a controllin' man?
I run the streets but I'm well known in Japan
As a G, the boss, the money coming fast
She from a lovin' home, I'm from a troubled home
One bedroom, didn't have a telephone
Now I'm on the corner, time to get my hustle on
Women recognize, and now I got a couple of 'em
Speedin' in the Beemer then I got a Range
She not a side chick, she all in my lane
She a quiet chick, may let her see some things
I'm catchin' feelin's for her, she take away the pain
Got me messin' 'round with you
You got me messin' 'round with you
Out here messin' 'round with you
What you gon' say? (What you gon' say?)
What you gon' do? (What you gon' do?)
Baby if they knew?
Life amazin', wake up in new places
Big faces stuffed in suitcases
Played the hand I was dealt, few aces
Now the bedroom suite is too spacious
Niggas wanna kill me but I put 'em on pause
Broke motherf*ckers better bow to the boss
I'm gettin' high, I'm above the law
Gettin' down and dirty, makin' love to her
Please believe in niggas that's still schemin'
But the ghost that floats the 4 Seasons
To love me baby is too easy
But what I need you to do is just believe me
She got the Range Rover, I was cool with it
Been the land, cruisin' girl I went to school in it
Green Goyard bag, it got the tool in it
Every time we f*ck I act a fool in it
Got me messin' 'round with you
You got me messin' 'round with you
Out here messin' 'round with you
What you gon' say? (What you gon' say?)
What you gon' do? (What you gon' do?)
Baby if they knew? Wow oh oh
Baby if they knew? Wow oh oh
Sweet but sad (but said), I don't know love ruins a relationship
It will never last but it feels so good, guess I gotta deal with it
This is so all bad, this is so all bad
Got me messin' 'round with you
You got me messin' 'round with you
Out here messin' 'round with you
What you gon' say? (What you gon' say?)
What you gon' do? (What you gon' do?)
Baby if they knew?
I'm a G, she say the pain runs deep
But she can't run from me
I'm in these streets with the killers, thugs, and drug dealers
100 Mil' plus, in trucks with no ceilings
F*ck who don't feel it, I'm feelin' like I'm the realest
Biggest boss in the business and really that's to infinite (to infinite)
What we doin' wrong but it feels right
Can't discuss what we did the whole night
Won't be the last time, on my cash line
Duffel bags so accountant is the past time
And for the last time, I'm not a bad guy
I just like what I like, now shorty act right
Small waist, red weaves
Black car, keep it flyer than them Red Wings
Nightmares, day dreams
She the one, listen how she say things
This is so all bad, nothin' good can come from this
Sweet but sad (but said), I don't know love ruins a relationship
It will never last but it feels so good, guess I gotta deal with it
This is so all bad, this is so all bad
Got me messin' 'round with you
You got me messin' 'round with you
Out here messin' 'round with you
What you gon' say? (What you gon' say?)
What you gon' do? (What you gon' do?)
Baby if they knew?
She in love with the life, champagne and all the light
Chanel sneakers and scarves, I want you to be my wife
We can run around the world and tuck with no fear
G4, G5, whole team here
Call ourselves friends, but we holdin' hands
Got a lot of questions, am I a controllin' man?
I run the streets but I'm well known in Japan
As a G, the boss, the money coming fast
She from a lovin' home, I'm from a troubled home
One bedroom, didn't have a telephone
Now I'm on the corner, time to get my hustle on
Women recognize, and now I got a couple of 'em
Speedin' in the Beemer then I got a Range
She not a side chick, she all in my lane
She a quiet chick, may let her see some things
I'm catchin' feelin's for her, she take away the pain
Got me messin' 'round with you
You got me messin' 'round with you
Out here messin' 'round with you
What you gon' say? (What you gon' say?)
What you gon' do? (What you gon' do?)
Baby if they knew?
Life amazin', wake up in new places
Big faces stuffed in suitcases
Played the hand I was dealt, few aces
Now the bedroom suite is too spacious
Niggas wanna kill me but I put 'em on pause
Broke motherf*ckers better bow to the boss
I'm gettin' high, I'm above the law
Gettin' down and dirty, makin' love to her
Please believe in niggas that's still schemin'
But the ghost that floats the 4 Seasons
To love me baby is too easy
But what I need you to do is just believe me
She got the Range Rover, I was cool with it
Been the land, cruisin' girl I went to school in it
Green Goyard bag, it got the tool in it
Every time we f*ck I act a fool in it
Got me messin' 'round with you
You got me messin' 'round with you
Out here messin' 'round with you
What you gon' say? (What you gon' say?)
What you gon' do? (What you gon' do?)
Baby if they knew? Wow oh oh
Baby if they knew? Wow oh oh
Writer: Kimberly Michelle Pate, WILLIAM LEONARD ROBERTS
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Anthem Entertainment, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Anthem Entertainment, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Quintessential
[Verse 1 - Rick Ross:]
My paint wet, my bitch bad
Straight mastermind, yo' rich ass
My cup full, full of that pink shit
So shut your f*ckin' mouth, f*ck all that weak shit
This MMG shit, MMG shit
She f*ck my whole squad, she MMG bitch
Just got that G-Wagon, I'm just so innovative
We came for the money bags, so f*ck your invitations
This calls for a celebration, Bel-Air celebration
60 hoes in the basement, nigga covered all the bases
Jabbar gave me a quarter, I sold it on the 1st
I took it to my mama, "here go get what you deserve"
Mob ties, Genovese
Money trains, centerpiece
We started at the bottom, until I got a bird
I pull that pussy card, that was all ya heard
Haan, haan, haan
[Hook - Snoop Dogg & Rick Ross:]
My whole life been based on that pimp shit
Haan
No movie, just money, real pimp shit
Haan
More cities, more bitches, real slick shit
Haan
My Maybach it matches my outfit
That pimp shit
[Verse 2 - Snoop Dogg:]
Keeping my tool, this shit so cool
Rule number one, ain't no rule
Swallow my lines, follow my grind
Rich white bitch with a bottle of whine
Word to the wise, word to mine
Bird a fly, certified, murder eye, dirty die
Never had black but she heard of my
D O Dub, I done it all, 20 years I bang a ball
91 I had a Lexus nigga
Ate seafood for breakfast nigga
Caught a few cases in Texas nigga
Do kushups 'til my chest get bigger
I press a nigga 'til I get it all
Real shit bitch I really do ball
I am the west to y'all
Taught y'all how to invest in ball
Best of all, took it on a chest for y'all
That's why I get more than the rest of y'all
It's bad enough I entertain
Add it up, gangbang
Gat 'em up, slang cane
Bag it up, same thang
[Hook]
[Outro - Snoop Dogg & Rick Ross:]
Titty one, titty two
Haan
See these are essentials, essentially speaking quintessentials
Haan
I bang it all, I dust it all, I smoke with all my dawgs
I bang it all, I dust it all, I smoke with all my dawgs
My paint wet, my feet chrome
F*ck boys hey, but they sing along
The real niggas admire
Success makes you inspire
Nigga came from the jets, I just hired a pilot
Bitches feeding me fruit
My paint wet, my bitch bad
Straight mastermind, yo' rich ass
My cup full, full of that pink shit
So shut your f*ckin' mouth, f*ck all that weak shit
This MMG shit, MMG shit
She f*ck my whole squad, she MMG bitch
Just got that G-Wagon, I'm just so innovative
We came for the money bags, so f*ck your invitations
This calls for a celebration, Bel-Air celebration
60 hoes in the basement, nigga covered all the bases
Jabbar gave me a quarter, I sold it on the 1st
I took it to my mama, "here go get what you deserve"
Mob ties, Genovese
Money trains, centerpiece
We started at the bottom, until I got a bird
I pull that pussy card, that was all ya heard
Haan, haan, haan
[Hook - Snoop Dogg & Rick Ross:]
My whole life been based on that pimp shit
Haan
No movie, just money, real pimp shit
Haan
More cities, more bitches, real slick shit
Haan
My Maybach it matches my outfit
That pimp shit
[Verse 2 - Snoop Dogg:]
Keeping my tool, this shit so cool
Rule number one, ain't no rule
Swallow my lines, follow my grind
Rich white bitch with a bottle of whine
Word to the wise, word to mine
Bird a fly, certified, murder eye, dirty die
Never had black but she heard of my
D O Dub, I done it all, 20 years I bang a ball
91 I had a Lexus nigga
Ate seafood for breakfast nigga
Caught a few cases in Texas nigga
Do kushups 'til my chest get bigger
I press a nigga 'til I get it all
Real shit bitch I really do ball
I am the west to y'all
Taught y'all how to invest in ball
Best of all, took it on a chest for y'all
That's why I get more than the rest of y'all
It's bad enough I entertain
Add it up, gangbang
Gat 'em up, slang cane
Bag it up, same thang
[Hook]
[Outro - Snoop Dogg & Rick Ross:]
Titty one, titty two
Haan
See these are essentials, essentially speaking quintessentials
Haan
I bang it all, I dust it all, I smoke with all my dawgs
I bang it all, I dust it all, I smoke with all my dawgs
My paint wet, my feet chrome
F*ck boys hey, but they sing along
The real niggas admire
Success makes you inspire
Nigga came from the jets, I just hired a pilot
Bitches feeding me fruit
Writer: Aldrin Davis, Calvin Broadus, Calvin Cordozar Broadus Jr., W. Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Keep Doin' That (Rich Bitch)
This is for my rich bitches (rich bitches)
Her puppy named Panamera
Her puppy named Panamera
She got a condo in the area
Rich bitch, uh, yeah
She stay at her friend's and all these bitches is bad
Watch them lick on each other, I'm talkin' pussy to ass
Dope boy still at large, trackin' device on her car
Tattoos on her arm, Double M diamond charms
Chanel bag on her hip, Hermes bracelets and things
Let her f*ck Meek Mill, told her keep chasin' her dreams
Get the Lexus to flip, purple Texas to sip
She make it rain like a nigga, we got more money to get (more money to get)
Rich bitch, call her rich bitch
'Cause she f*ck with dope boys and can suck a good dick
Yeah, I'm a spend up all this money (all this money)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Girl, you doin' somethin' to me (doin' somethin' to me)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Hell yeah, keep doin' that
Doin' that (oh yeah)
Keep doin' that, doin' that
Oh (yeah yeah)
Ooh yeah keep doin' that, doin' that
Keep doin' that, doin' that
Oh yeah, I be
Feastin' on Tinder
She take just like peaches
Diamond-studded La Perla
That pussy's prestigious
Yeah, she remind me of somethin'
But that shit ain't my Jeep
Matchin' Bugattis, Versace sheets when we freak
She be movin' that dough, quarter mil on her wrist
Why you niggas be slippin'? This bitch is f*ckin' your bitch
Saks fifth pop tags, neiman I pop tags
Crocodile, python, that's a zoo on her bag
She on the phone makin' deals, we gettin' them checks
My Penelope Cruz, I let her meet my connects
I f*ck her all on the marble, yeah, that girl is a freak
She like comin' in mornin', she's the female me
Yeah, I'm a spend up all this money (all this money)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Girl, you doin' somethin' to me (doin' somethin' to me)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Hell yeah, keep doin' that
Doin' that (oh yeah)
Keep doin' that, doin' that
Oh (yeah yeah)
Ooh yeah keep doin' that, doin' that
Keep doin' that, doin' that
Oh yeah
Room service for weeks, a dozel towel on the beach
She only wear panties once, then pass it down to her niece
Let's go shoppin' at Boca, sixty stuffed in the sofa
Can't be tweetin' locations, she postin' pics from her yoga
Never party with locals, niggas with them was moguls
Vip with dope boys, the DJ shout out to Sosa
Valet park in the Wraith, cocaine all on her face
Her Rolex icy as mine, throw up my gang sign
We goin' bottle for bottle, Belaire Rose to the Brut
Rich bitch is her name and she Chanel to the boot
Uh, I be droppin' so much, nigga
My bitch shoppin' so much, nigga
Yeah, I'm a spend up all this money (all this money)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Girl, you doin' somethin' to me (doin' somethin' to me)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Hell yeah, keep doin' that
Doin' that (oh yeah)
Keep doin' that, doin' that
Oh (yeah yeah)
Ooh yeah keep doin' that, doin' that
Keep doin' that, doin' that (girl)
Oh yeah
Her puppy named Panamera
Her puppy named Panamera
She got a condo in the area
Rich bitch, uh, yeah
She stay at her friend's and all these bitches is bad
Watch them lick on each other, I'm talkin' pussy to ass
Dope boy still at large, trackin' device on her car
Tattoos on her arm, Double M diamond charms
Chanel bag on her hip, Hermes bracelets and things
Let her f*ck Meek Mill, told her keep chasin' her dreams
Get the Lexus to flip, purple Texas to sip
She make it rain like a nigga, we got more money to get (more money to get)
Rich bitch, call her rich bitch
'Cause she f*ck with dope boys and can suck a good dick
Yeah, I'm a spend up all this money (all this money)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Girl, you doin' somethin' to me (doin' somethin' to me)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Hell yeah, keep doin' that
Doin' that (oh yeah)
Keep doin' that, doin' that
Oh (yeah yeah)
Ooh yeah keep doin' that, doin' that
Keep doin' that, doin' that
Oh yeah, I be
Feastin' on Tinder
She take just like peaches
Diamond-studded La Perla
That pussy's prestigious
Yeah, she remind me of somethin'
But that shit ain't my Jeep
Matchin' Bugattis, Versace sheets when we freak
She be movin' that dough, quarter mil on her wrist
Why you niggas be slippin'? This bitch is f*ckin' your bitch
Saks fifth pop tags, neiman I pop tags
Crocodile, python, that's a zoo on her bag
She on the phone makin' deals, we gettin' them checks
My Penelope Cruz, I let her meet my connects
I f*ck her all on the marble, yeah, that girl is a freak
She like comin' in mornin', she's the female me
Yeah, I'm a spend up all this money (all this money)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Girl, you doin' somethin' to me (doin' somethin' to me)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Hell yeah, keep doin' that
Doin' that (oh yeah)
Keep doin' that, doin' that
Oh (yeah yeah)
Ooh yeah keep doin' that, doin' that
Keep doin' that, doin' that
Oh yeah
Room service for weeks, a dozel towel on the beach
She only wear panties once, then pass it down to her niece
Let's go shoppin' at Boca, sixty stuffed in the sofa
Can't be tweetin' locations, she postin' pics from her yoga
Never party with locals, niggas with them was moguls
Vip with dope boys, the DJ shout out to Sosa
Valet park in the Wraith, cocaine all on her face
Her Rolex icy as mine, throw up my gang sign
We goin' bottle for bottle, Belaire Rose to the Brut
Rich bitch is her name and she Chanel to the boot
Uh, I be droppin' so much, nigga
My bitch shoppin' so much, nigga
Yeah, I'm a spend up all this money (all this money)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Girl, you doin' somethin' to me (doin' somethin' to me)
Fast (fast)
Fast (fast)
Hell yeah, keep doin' that
Doin' that (oh yeah)
Keep doin' that, doin' that
Oh (yeah yeah)
Ooh yeah keep doin' that, doin' that
Keep doin' that, doin' that (girl)
Oh yeah
Writer: Robert S. Kelly, Mack Loggins, William Leonard II Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, The Administration MP, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, The Administration MP, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Nickel Rock
[Boosie Badazz:]
Boosie Badazz
Rozay, I know about that nickel rock
In the match box I saw my first nickel rock
Cash city, nigga with his first nickel spot
Rest in peace to Arthur, boy, we gotta give him props
In his angel house he chopped our first nickel rocks
Natural-born hustler so you know the dreams grew
Gold D's on the Chevy what cream do
Front line nigga, still I was team two
Always ready for whatever when it came to it
Young nigga took an L and he chose to tell
All the boys over there, they never took it well
Do the math on the ave when your time comes
Have your ass on your back with your eyes stuck
[Hook:]
Paid mama's light bill with them nickel rocks
Even kept the phone on with them nickel rocks
Got my first pair of Jordans for them nickel rocks
Even felt extorted for them nickel rocks
Got it all, but the days on them nickel rocks
Got a 5 dollar sale for these nickel rocks
Seen a man kill his brother for a nickel rock
I'm a bad motherf*cker with a nickel rock
[Boosie Badazz:]
I know some niggas got popped behind a nickel rock
The best times was on the block, was on the nickel spot
Gangsta P got 30 for a nickel rock, repeated offender
Should've told that nigga stop 'fore they ate him for dinner
The church ran by a sinner since his word didn't stop
When he finish communion he gon' get a nickel rock
Lou started with a nickel rock, started flipping plenty blocks
30 years in cause he sold that first nickel rock
Got my first pussy for a nickel rock
Ain't gon' lie, that bitch was hot
If I had it she would have got a block
Rock solid over here, no question
Duncan owed 5 dollars and he stretched him
Over a nickel rock
[Hook]
Put the pistol in your name and you may get the blame
I just wanna feel the fame and go get the chain
Old shooter on the team, I'm Bernard King
Started with a nickel rock and got a triple beam
What you want, code red, you the Feds
Put this pistol to your head, it's time to go to bed
On account of I just want to see my daughter fed
Went to the store and I came back with just a loaf of bread
Real when you nickel rock, you wreck your deal
Boosie did a nickel, back on top the nigga real
Double M, we get the money that you never will
One nickel rock in my pocket to a half a mill
[Hook]
Boosie Badazz
Rozay, I know about that nickel rock
In the match box I saw my first nickel rock
Cash city, nigga with his first nickel spot
Rest in peace to Arthur, boy, we gotta give him props
In his angel house he chopped our first nickel rocks
Natural-born hustler so you know the dreams grew
Gold D's on the Chevy what cream do
Front line nigga, still I was team two
Always ready for whatever when it came to it
Young nigga took an L and he chose to tell
All the boys over there, they never took it well
Do the math on the ave when your time comes
Have your ass on your back with your eyes stuck
[Hook:]
Paid mama's light bill with them nickel rocks
Even kept the phone on with them nickel rocks
Got my first pair of Jordans for them nickel rocks
Even felt extorted for them nickel rocks
Got it all, but the days on them nickel rocks
Got a 5 dollar sale for these nickel rocks
Seen a man kill his brother for a nickel rock
I'm a bad motherf*cker with a nickel rock
[Boosie Badazz:]
I know some niggas got popped behind a nickel rock
The best times was on the block, was on the nickel spot
Gangsta P got 30 for a nickel rock, repeated offender
Should've told that nigga stop 'fore they ate him for dinner
The church ran by a sinner since his word didn't stop
When he finish communion he gon' get a nickel rock
Lou started with a nickel rock, started flipping plenty blocks
30 years in cause he sold that first nickel rock
Got my first pussy for a nickel rock
Ain't gon' lie, that bitch was hot
If I had it she would have got a block
Rock solid over here, no question
Duncan owed 5 dollars and he stretched him
Over a nickel rock
[Hook]
Put the pistol in your name and you may get the blame
I just wanna feel the fame and go get the chain
Old shooter on the team, I'm Bernard King
Started with a nickel rock and got a triple beam
What you want, code red, you the Feds
Put this pistol to your head, it's time to go to bed
On account of I just want to see my daughter fed
Went to the store and I came back with just a loaf of bread
Real when you nickel rock, you wreck your deal
Boosie did a nickel, back on top the nigga real
Double M, we get the money that you never will
One nickel rock in my pocket to a half a mill
[Hook]
Writer: Torrence Hatch, Tracy Tyler, W. Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Burn
Aye boy, where you at?
Nigga you a dead man if you stay right there my nigga
It's gonna be a heavy flick coming that way my nigga
Trust me my nigga
Them people coming and they coming with them drums nigga
Get the f*ck outta there my nigga
Save yourself my nigga
This shit getting real tricky out here on these streets
I told you first my nigga
It's problems over there, get the f*ck around now
If it ain't about dreams and nightmares nigga it ain't about nothing
October 30
Meek Millie what it do?
Philly what it do?
So God forgives, you on the road to platinum nigga
Sitting on some Cali weed, I think it's time to burn
Pull up in some shit, to put it in dro you gotta learn
Cocaine cowboys, you better wait your turn
Michael's on leon money, come and get it on the curve
These nigga wanna hate, that's why they get what they deserve
We only dealin what we have, livin and we learn
No more J's on the porch, days that we were poor
Amazed by mama boy, bumpin maze in the Porsche
Bulletproof vest suburban, they hatin you when you earn it
Bitches be rollin in it, they say I'm so photogenic
Every night is a feast, niggas be having beef
I teach me a young boy, call him my Chief Keef
Truders be with extort, go to war over Jordans
But you know I'm in these, kidnappin over them keys
But you know I'm in these, kidnappin over them keys
Niggas wanna try, what they gonna say?
I hit the pedal til that motherf*cker break
Celebrate, freaky bitches loving money I make
And to live like this you motherf*ckers gotta pay
So let that shit burn (burn!)
Let that shit burn (burn!)
I'm a let that shit burn
Let that shit burn (burn!)
The roof on fire, I'm only getting higher
50 racks all in my pocket, hold no bottles
I'm a let that shit burn
Let that shit burn (burn!)
I'm a let that shit burn
Let that shit burn (burn!)
The roof on fire, I'm only getting higher
50 racks all in my pocket, hold no bottles
Hammer on the dresser, work on the stove
I'm sitting on the counter blowing purp out my nose
Red bone naked, in the bed flexin'
I say bitch I ain't impressed you must of got the wrong impression
I ain't with the BS, I'm flyer than PF
Man, we living in hell like a deep breath
Real niggas with real money, real bitches with fake asses
If she don't wanna f*ck I get on my skateboard and I skate passed her
Money on the table, guns on the table
Bitch I'm on that syrup tell that ho leggo my Eggo
And my girlfriend is a choppa, I finger f*ck that ho
Hello I am Tunechi: you had me at hello
Drop top Maybach, clean like Ajax
Man I don't f*ck with none of you niggas like rednecks
We got that work so come and get if we don't know you, you pay tax
I put a hole in your apple what that is apple jacks, uh
Pussy nigga I'll murder you then dance at your funeral
Blood I'll have a nigga drinking his own blood communion
Wake up like Bone Thugs I'll call your bluff pick the phone up
Her titties fake but they look real cubic: zirconia's
Run up in your house spare the kids and kill the grown ups
Your bitch call me when she hot: Krispy Kreme donuts
Shoutout to my new hoes, shoutout to my old hoes
I still wear that ass out like a wardrobe
Bitch, what they gonna say?
Still eating rappers on my f*cking lunch break
Bad yellow bitch with a tongue like a snake
I let her suck my dick then I f*ck her to some Drake
And then I let that kush burn let that kush burn
Yeah I let that kush burn
Smoking gasoline bitch
The booth on fire I'm in here getting higher
Young Money bitch we at the top like barbwire
Chained all VF, I ain't with the BF
Catch me in the city ridin hard through the BF
Skinny nigga but I do it large like a 3F
The last nigga try it...
Nigga you a dead man if you stay right there my nigga
It's gonna be a heavy flick coming that way my nigga
Trust me my nigga
Them people coming and they coming with them drums nigga
Get the f*ck outta there my nigga
Save yourself my nigga
This shit getting real tricky out here on these streets
I told you first my nigga
It's problems over there, get the f*ck around now
If it ain't about dreams and nightmares nigga it ain't about nothing
October 30
Meek Millie what it do?
Philly what it do?
So God forgives, you on the road to platinum nigga
Sitting on some Cali weed, I think it's time to burn
Pull up in some shit, to put it in dro you gotta learn
Cocaine cowboys, you better wait your turn
Michael's on leon money, come and get it on the curve
These nigga wanna hate, that's why they get what they deserve
We only dealin what we have, livin and we learn
No more J's on the porch, days that we were poor
Amazed by mama boy, bumpin maze in the Porsche
Bulletproof vest suburban, they hatin you when you earn it
Bitches be rollin in it, they say I'm so photogenic
Every night is a feast, niggas be having beef
I teach me a young boy, call him my Chief Keef
Truders be with extort, go to war over Jordans
But you know I'm in these, kidnappin over them keys
But you know I'm in these, kidnappin over them keys
Niggas wanna try, what they gonna say?
I hit the pedal til that motherf*cker break
Celebrate, freaky bitches loving money I make
And to live like this you motherf*ckers gotta pay
So let that shit burn (burn!)
Let that shit burn (burn!)
I'm a let that shit burn
Let that shit burn (burn!)
The roof on fire, I'm only getting higher
50 racks all in my pocket, hold no bottles
I'm a let that shit burn
Let that shit burn (burn!)
I'm a let that shit burn
Let that shit burn (burn!)
The roof on fire, I'm only getting higher
50 racks all in my pocket, hold no bottles
Hammer on the dresser, work on the stove
I'm sitting on the counter blowing purp out my nose
Red bone naked, in the bed flexin'
I say bitch I ain't impressed you must of got the wrong impression
I ain't with the BS, I'm flyer than PF
Man, we living in hell like a deep breath
Real niggas with real money, real bitches with fake asses
If she don't wanna f*ck I get on my skateboard and I skate passed her
Money on the table, guns on the table
Bitch I'm on that syrup tell that ho leggo my Eggo
And my girlfriend is a choppa, I finger f*ck that ho
Hello I am Tunechi: you had me at hello
Drop top Maybach, clean like Ajax
Man I don't f*ck with none of you niggas like rednecks
We got that work so come and get if we don't know you, you pay tax
I put a hole in your apple what that is apple jacks, uh
Pussy nigga I'll murder you then dance at your funeral
Blood I'll have a nigga drinking his own blood communion
Wake up like Bone Thugs I'll call your bluff pick the phone up
Her titties fake but they look real cubic: zirconia's
Run up in your house spare the kids and kill the grown ups
Your bitch call me when she hot: Krispy Kreme donuts
Shoutout to my new hoes, shoutout to my old hoes
I still wear that ass out like a wardrobe
Bitch, what they gonna say?
Still eating rappers on my f*cking lunch break
Bad yellow bitch with a tongue like a snake
I let her suck my dick then I f*ck her to some Drake
And then I let that kush burn let that kush burn
Yeah I let that kush burn
Smoking gasoline bitch
The booth on fire I'm in here getting higher
Young Money bitch we at the top like barbwire
Chained all VF, I ain't with the BF
Catch me in the city ridin hard through the BF
Skinny nigga but I do it large like a 3F
The last nigga try it...
Writer: RICK ROSS, SHAMANN COOKE
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Family Ties
[Intro:]
Some things you have to see for yourself
Francis Ford, f*ckin' with them hoes
You niggas still can't afford
[Verse 1:]
Made so many mistakes I know that my niggas relate
Just to rattle my cage, so much shit they sat on my plate
She know me through records, but she don't know me too well
All this game is for sale was priceless, I keep for myself
Shots fired, man expired in his Jordan 3's
Small talk, turn that page, that's all they ever read
You graduated, you still unemployed
Taken for granted, love is null and void
No longer one and few, young Langston Hughes
Jewish intuition, I'm followin' cues
Niggas own Versace, don't know Nikki Giovanni
Your paper chasin', can't see that it's runnin' from you
My homies from the block, they labeled me cunnin'
No excuse for my success, so they say I'm Masonic
I keep it one hundred, f*ck her, I keep the car runnin'
How she f*ck on the back, that's to keep food on the stomach
[Hook:]
Look at me, look at me
Realest shit you niggas ever seen
Look at me, look at me
Look at me, look at me
[Verse 2:]
Playin' for keeps, and that's just to say at the least
Had a few seizures, nigga refused to get me some sleep
I let shit slide, I should see the sparks
Now I think about my moms when I jot these songs
I think of certain niggas when I mention guns
Heavy artillery, death to enemies number one
Francis Ford, flows you niggas can't ignore
Shoppin' with them hoes you niggas can't afford
Bellaire Rose, they thought I'd go gold, wouldn't sell anything more
They thought I'd fail, they thought I'd fold
Go to hell, any nigga wanna buy my soul
Double-M, extend my hand, I see you stumblin'
Francis Ford films budget, double-forty M's
Godfather money, filmin' part four again
Butterball, Magic City, so you know it's him, me
[Hook]
[Verse 3:]
I blaze J's, f*ck the Dutch slave trade
F*ck a net worth when I'm just trynna maintain
Tennessee, I felt like Mr. Wendal, nigga
When ain't nobody starin' out that window with you
Obligated, surrounded, when you are often hated
Left a bag of that dope when they flew off to Vegas
It was written, Mr. Jones, a different picture
Strong as bones like Corleones, the realest figuers
Speakin' in native tongues, me, myself and I
Through Michael Rapaport eyes, it's just a lost trial
But I see the gems, I see the stars
Diabetes and all, your name will carry on
I pray this legacy is what is left of me
Corporate cannabis givin' me leprosy
Look at me, look at me
Double-M, f*ckin' G
[Hook]
Some things you have to see for yourself
Francis Ford, f*ckin' with them hoes
You niggas still can't afford
[Verse 1:]
Made so many mistakes I know that my niggas relate
Just to rattle my cage, so much shit they sat on my plate
She know me through records, but she don't know me too well
All this game is for sale was priceless, I keep for myself
Shots fired, man expired in his Jordan 3's
Small talk, turn that page, that's all they ever read
You graduated, you still unemployed
Taken for granted, love is null and void
No longer one and few, young Langston Hughes
Jewish intuition, I'm followin' cues
Niggas own Versace, don't know Nikki Giovanni
Your paper chasin', can't see that it's runnin' from you
My homies from the block, they labeled me cunnin'
No excuse for my success, so they say I'm Masonic
I keep it one hundred, f*ck her, I keep the car runnin'
How she f*ck on the back, that's to keep food on the stomach
[Hook:]
Look at me, look at me
Realest shit you niggas ever seen
Look at me, look at me
Look at me, look at me
[Verse 2:]
Playin' for keeps, and that's just to say at the least
Had a few seizures, nigga refused to get me some sleep
I let shit slide, I should see the sparks
Now I think about my moms when I jot these songs
I think of certain niggas when I mention guns
Heavy artillery, death to enemies number one
Francis Ford, flows you niggas can't ignore
Shoppin' with them hoes you niggas can't afford
Bellaire Rose, they thought I'd go gold, wouldn't sell anything more
They thought I'd fail, they thought I'd fold
Go to hell, any nigga wanna buy my soul
Double-M, extend my hand, I see you stumblin'
Francis Ford films budget, double-forty M's
Godfather money, filmin' part four again
Butterball, Magic City, so you know it's him, me
[Hook]
[Verse 3:]
I blaze J's, f*ck the Dutch slave trade
F*ck a net worth when I'm just trynna maintain
Tennessee, I felt like Mr. Wendal, nigga
When ain't nobody starin' out that window with you
Obligated, surrounded, when you are often hated
Left a bag of that dope when they flew off to Vegas
It was written, Mr. Jones, a different picture
Strong as bones like Corleones, the realest figuers
Speakin' in native tongues, me, myself and I
Through Michael Rapaport eyes, it's just a lost trial
But I see the gems, I see the stars
Diabetes and all, your name will carry on
I pray this legacy is what is left of me
Corporate cannabis givin' me leprosy
Look at me, look at me
Double-M, f*ckin' G
[Hook]
Writer: Bobby Eli, Calvin Price, Carl McCormick, Jeffrey Prusan, W. Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Brimstone
[Intro:]
Hey dog, we always been self made men you feel me? So you know what I'm sayin', Ross could stand on his own you feel me? So just keep goin' dog hit that billionaire status. And you know when I get there dog, you know what I'm sayin', we're gonna sit back and eat fish dinners. No crab meat, you know what I mean?
[Hook - Big KRIT:]
I say lord, lord lord lord lord
I pray I don't be here
When it all goes down, when it all goes down
I say lord, lord lord lord lord
I pray I don't be here
When it all goes down, when it all goes down
There'll be hard times, and then song
Fire, and brimstones
Devil world from which you came
I pray that God will know my name
There'll be hard times, and then songs
Fire, and brimstones
Devil world from which you came
I pray that God will know my name
I say lord, lord lord lord lord
[Verse 1 - Rick Ross:]
Lord lord lord lord
I remember hard times always found a way to smile
It was quiet, Christmas time, no pretty lights around the house
They told me I was loud, didn't fit into they crowd
Mama need a spouse, Daddy always in and out
Age 15 so the caged bird sings
One year later seen a straight bird clean
All glitters ain't gold
These evil niggas prayin' for your soul
Walkin' through the fire, Hell on God's green Earth
Take a seat, close your eyes, bow your head, say chuch
[Hook 2 - Big KRIT:]
Lord, lord lord lord lord
I pray I don't be here
When it all goes down, when it all goes down
There'll be hard times, and then songs
Fire, and brimstones
Devil world from which you came
I pray that God will know my name
I say lord, lord lord lord lord
[Verse 2 - Rick Ross:]
Lord lord lord lord
I'm sittin' in the trap and now done did it with the best
Pull a double shift its time to get your boy some rest
Money on my mind, alcohol on my breath
On the road to riches as I stumble every step
Gold on my arm, gold on my neck
But whats in my heart I will cherish till the death
Same rainy days, but things never change
Prayin' to my maker just to take away this pain
Walkin' through the fire, Hell on God's green Earth
Take a seat, close your eyes, bow your head, say chuch
[Hook - Big KRIT x2]
[Outro:]
And I'd love to see that movie man, I know your only gonna get bigger. You know so, when y'all see me in the pictures on the yacht though, when I'm lookin' at the pictures on the yacht and I'm seein' my homies on yachts that they own you know what I mean? Its like okay, this what the movies been about from day one. You know a lot of times people misinterpret it, as far as the Carol City Cartel, the [?] and think it was just violence. It wasn't never about violence, it was all about survival and gettin' that position. So now, you know this the platform we had to use - this call is from a federal prison - now dudes get in position and we love that position because we love to win. And we gonna continue to win, as long as we breathin'. You know what I'm sayin'? And our kids gon' win, and they kids gon' win because this what its bout'. You know what I mean? So you already know fam, the big homie, its just, you know what I'm sayin', a product of his environment who used his environment to get in position and if a person don't like that then they don't like success dog. Because, you know, we ain't gon' never stop. You know, and thats what I like about Rick Ross and all his music - beep beep - picture with words. Tell everybody I send my love man, and Carol City [?] for live dog. Carol City Cartel too, you hear me?
Hey dog, we always been self made men you feel me? So you know what I'm sayin', Ross could stand on his own you feel me? So just keep goin' dog hit that billionaire status. And you know when I get there dog, you know what I'm sayin', we're gonna sit back and eat fish dinners. No crab meat, you know what I mean?
[Hook - Big KRIT:]
I say lord, lord lord lord lord
I pray I don't be here
When it all goes down, when it all goes down
I say lord, lord lord lord lord
I pray I don't be here
When it all goes down, when it all goes down
There'll be hard times, and then song
Fire, and brimstones
Devil world from which you came
I pray that God will know my name
There'll be hard times, and then songs
Fire, and brimstones
Devil world from which you came
I pray that God will know my name
I say lord, lord lord lord lord
[Verse 1 - Rick Ross:]
Lord lord lord lord
I remember hard times always found a way to smile
It was quiet, Christmas time, no pretty lights around the house
They told me I was loud, didn't fit into they crowd
Mama need a spouse, Daddy always in and out
Age 15 so the caged bird sings
One year later seen a straight bird clean
All glitters ain't gold
These evil niggas prayin' for your soul
Walkin' through the fire, Hell on God's green Earth
Take a seat, close your eyes, bow your head, say chuch
[Hook 2 - Big KRIT:]
Lord, lord lord lord lord
I pray I don't be here
When it all goes down, when it all goes down
There'll be hard times, and then songs
Fire, and brimstones
Devil world from which you came
I pray that God will know my name
I say lord, lord lord lord lord
[Verse 2 - Rick Ross:]
Lord lord lord lord
I'm sittin' in the trap and now done did it with the best
Pull a double shift its time to get your boy some rest
Money on my mind, alcohol on my breath
On the road to riches as I stumble every step
Gold on my arm, gold on my neck
But whats in my heart I will cherish till the death
Same rainy days, but things never change
Prayin' to my maker just to take away this pain
Walkin' through the fire, Hell on God's green Earth
Take a seat, close your eyes, bow your head, say chuch
[Hook - Big KRIT x2]
[Outro:]
And I'd love to see that movie man, I know your only gonna get bigger. You know so, when y'all see me in the pictures on the yacht though, when I'm lookin' at the pictures on the yacht and I'm seein' my homies on yachts that they own you know what I mean? Its like okay, this what the movies been about from day one. You know a lot of times people misinterpret it, as far as the Carol City Cartel, the [?] and think it was just violence. It wasn't never about violence, it was all about survival and gettin' that position. So now, you know this the platform we had to use - this call is from a federal prison - now dudes get in position and we love that position because we love to win. And we gonna continue to win, as long as we breathin'. You know what I'm sayin'? And our kids gon' win, and they kids gon' win because this what its bout'. You know what I mean? So you already know fam, the big homie, its just, you know what I'm sayin', a product of his environment who used his environment to get in position and if a person don't like that then they don't like success dog. Because, you know, we ain't gon' never stop. You know, and thats what I like about Rick Ross and all his music - beep beep - picture with words. Tell everybody I send my love man, and Carol City [?] for live dog. Carol City Cartel too, you hear me?
Writer: RICK ROSS, JUSTIN SCOTT, MIKE HARTNETT
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Wuzzup
[Verse 1:]
Tatted tears for my [?] doin' bids in they 40s
The height a nigga go to for a penthouse with garages
Keep my hand on the hammer, feds on the scanner
Bun B in my blood, Pimp C as I chatter
Ridin' dirty but my watches, I just took my bitches shoppin'
Just landed in Detroit, I got a bitches [?]
All that talkin', it ain't nothin'
Rozay comfy in the pocket
Tatted, bridge water runnin' traffic like a faucet
Heroin on hollow tips, may I sit you with the highest?
No fly zone, muf*cker I'm the flyest
Go and pay your rent, my new dicky covered in lint
Canary pinky ring I've got PETA all on my dick
[Hook:]
I just pulled up to the office, time to link up with my partners
Bring a quarter to the table, we can go and get a dollar
Put my bitches all on hold, crackers hit me up the road
They gon' break off any way or time to do it for your woes, wazzup?
They say them killas lookin' for me, wuzzup?
They say them people askin' questions, wuzzup?
They say them slidas slidin' on me, wuzzup?
They say my number's gettin better, wuzzup?
[Verse 2:]
Photoshoot fresh, four cubans layin' on my chest
Nigga hatin' from the stars, still I wish 'em the best
Killa' with no regrets, chinchilla, so finesse
Testosterone hella high, survived by gettin' by
Polish up all your flaws, you can't be f*ckin' [?]
Finally made it to the majors, stealing bases of course
Giving bitches your money, she giving it to your dog
He who pillow talkin' the longest, may you rest in the MOB
48 [?], my dogs a [?]
Duck-tape Robert Greene, make him read the Qu'ran
Dollars on my neck, BGK on my sweats
Cartier frames, Belaire on my breath
[Hook]
Tatted tears for my [?] doin' bids in they 40s
The height a nigga go to for a penthouse with garages
Keep my hand on the hammer, feds on the scanner
Bun B in my blood, Pimp C as I chatter
Ridin' dirty but my watches, I just took my bitches shoppin'
Just landed in Detroit, I got a bitches [?]
All that talkin', it ain't nothin'
Rozay comfy in the pocket
Tatted, bridge water runnin' traffic like a faucet
Heroin on hollow tips, may I sit you with the highest?
No fly zone, muf*cker I'm the flyest
Go and pay your rent, my new dicky covered in lint
Canary pinky ring I've got PETA all on my dick
[Hook:]
I just pulled up to the office, time to link up with my partners
Bring a quarter to the table, we can go and get a dollar
Put my bitches all on hold, crackers hit me up the road
They gon' break off any way or time to do it for your woes, wazzup?
They say them killas lookin' for me, wuzzup?
They say them people askin' questions, wuzzup?
They say them slidas slidin' on me, wuzzup?
They say my number's gettin better, wuzzup?
[Verse 2:]
Photoshoot fresh, four cubans layin' on my chest
Nigga hatin' from the stars, still I wish 'em the best
Killa' with no regrets, chinchilla, so finesse
Testosterone hella high, survived by gettin' by
Polish up all your flaws, you can't be f*ckin' [?]
Finally made it to the majors, stealing bases of course
Giving bitches your money, she giving it to your dog
He who pillow talkin' the longest, may you rest in the MOB
48 [?], my dogs a [?]
Duck-tape Robert Greene, make him read the Qu'ran
Dollars on my neck, BGK on my sweats
Cartier frames, Belaire on my breath
[Hook]
Writer: WIlliam Leonard Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Spirit Music Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Spirit Music Group
Headache
Small talk, give me a headache
F*ck boys, give me a headache
Fake bitches, give me a headache
Little money, give me a headache
All them fake jewels give me a headache
Bitch fake bag, give me a headache
Hating niggas give me a headache
Hating bitches give me a headache
Vacay where you niggas don't
Got it nigga, how you want it
100 chains, I'm cold blooded
Land on your head nigga, no luggage
It get hot up in the streets, we always cooking beef
Why are you telling on the gang, could of took a plea
Young shooters we recruiting like we Booker T
Hit em in the club so he went and took a seat
Nigga leaking like a album week before release
Use to run the world, now he barely on his feet
Ski mask in the suite, sticks in the uber
Tailgating on the streets, bricks in the cooler
Getting money, never cared that LeBron left
'Cause I thought that getting wealthy was the concept
I just want to be the richest, they say I'm the nicest
Money team 1990, I'm Michael Tyson
Get your money IRS, give me a headache
Every record that them niggas make, give me a headache
Arizona weed, give me a headache
Bitches lying on me, give me a headache
Small talk, give me a headache
F*ck boys, give me a headache
Fake bitches, give me a headache
Little money, give me a headache
All them fake jewels give me a headache
Bitch fake bag, give me a headache
Hating niggas give me a headache
Hating bitches give me a headache
Vacay where you niggas don't
Got it nigga, how you want it
100 chains, I'm cold blooded
Land on your head nigga, no luggage
Valet at the spot, they put my name on it
F*ck her like a beat, you know I came on it
Root got a league, I make it rain on it
I kill for your prayer, do the same on it
Wood seats at the game, they call it Ricky row
She dancin' on my dick until she tippy-toe
Pullin' on them pistols till they tapping out
Tink, tink, tink, tink, tink
Blue denim jeans, black bike jacket
Propofol, a nigga had a mic habit
Lean to the left, lean to the right
Cling to death, get you buried on sight
Weak links in the camp, give me a headache
We never get em cause we hit em double MOB
Hood Billionaire but a bird on it
Be a man of your word, now you worth somethin'
Small talk, give me a headache
F*ck boys, give me a headache
Fake bitches, give me a headache
Little money, give me a headache
All them fake jewels give me a headache
Bitch fake bag, give me a headache
Hating niggas give me a headache
Hating bitches give me a headache
Vacay where you niggas don't
Got it nigga, how you want it
100 chains, I'm cold blooded
Land on your head nigga, no luggage
All that consignment give me a headache
My baby momma, give me a headache
Looking through this fog, give me a headache
Talking to you shaw, give me a headache
Wake up in the morning, with a headache
Mixing white and brown, give me a headache
Closet like fashion week, at Milan
Armour from Lebanese, Lebanon
Small talk, give me a headache
F*ck boys, give me a headache
Fake bitches, give me a headache
Little money, give me a headache
All them fake jewels give me a headache
Bitch fake bag, give me a headache
Hating niggas give me a headache
Hating bitches give me a headache
Vacay where you niggas don't
Got it nigga, how you want it
100 chains, I'm cold blooded
Land on your head nigga, no luggage
F*ck boys, give me a headache
Fake bitches, give me a headache
Little money, give me a headache
All them fake jewels give me a headache
Bitch fake bag, give me a headache
Hating niggas give me a headache
Hating bitches give me a headache
Vacay where you niggas don't
Got it nigga, how you want it
100 chains, I'm cold blooded
Land on your head nigga, no luggage
It get hot up in the streets, we always cooking beef
Why are you telling on the gang, could of took a plea
Young shooters we recruiting like we Booker T
Hit em in the club so he went and took a seat
Nigga leaking like a album week before release
Use to run the world, now he barely on his feet
Ski mask in the suite, sticks in the uber
Tailgating on the streets, bricks in the cooler
Getting money, never cared that LeBron left
'Cause I thought that getting wealthy was the concept
I just want to be the richest, they say I'm the nicest
Money team 1990, I'm Michael Tyson
Get your money IRS, give me a headache
Every record that them niggas make, give me a headache
Arizona weed, give me a headache
Bitches lying on me, give me a headache
Small talk, give me a headache
F*ck boys, give me a headache
Fake bitches, give me a headache
Little money, give me a headache
All them fake jewels give me a headache
Bitch fake bag, give me a headache
Hating niggas give me a headache
Hating bitches give me a headache
Vacay where you niggas don't
Got it nigga, how you want it
100 chains, I'm cold blooded
Land on your head nigga, no luggage
Valet at the spot, they put my name on it
F*ck her like a beat, you know I came on it
Root got a league, I make it rain on it
I kill for your prayer, do the same on it
Wood seats at the game, they call it Ricky row
She dancin' on my dick until she tippy-toe
Pullin' on them pistols till they tapping out
Tink, tink, tink, tink, tink
Blue denim jeans, black bike jacket
Propofol, a nigga had a mic habit
Lean to the left, lean to the right
Cling to death, get you buried on sight
Weak links in the camp, give me a headache
We never get em cause we hit em double MOB
Hood Billionaire but a bird on it
Be a man of your word, now you worth somethin'
Small talk, give me a headache
F*ck boys, give me a headache
Fake bitches, give me a headache
Little money, give me a headache
All them fake jewels give me a headache
Bitch fake bag, give me a headache
Hating niggas give me a headache
Hating bitches give me a headache
Vacay where you niggas don't
Got it nigga, how you want it
100 chains, I'm cold blooded
Land on your head nigga, no luggage
All that consignment give me a headache
My baby momma, give me a headache
Looking through this fog, give me a headache
Talking to you shaw, give me a headache
Wake up in the morning, with a headache
Mixing white and brown, give me a headache
Closet like fashion week, at Milan
Armour from Lebanese, Lebanon
Small talk, give me a headache
F*ck boys, give me a headache
Fake bitches, give me a headache
Little money, give me a headache
All them fake jewels give me a headache
Bitch fake bag, give me a headache
Hating niggas give me a headache
Hating bitches give me a headache
Vacay where you niggas don't
Got it nigga, how you want it
100 chains, I'm cold blooded
Land on your head nigga, no luggage
Writer: Karim Kharbouch, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Hood Billionaire is the seventh studio album by American hip hop recording artist Rick Ross. The album was released through Maybach Music Group, Slip-n-Slide Records and Def Jam Recordings on November 24, 2014. The album features guest appearances from Jay-Z, Prodigy, French Montana, Project Pat, Yo Gotti, Boosie Badazz, Big K.R.I.T., Whole Slab, R. Kelly, and Snoop Dogg. The album was supported by the singles "Elvis Presley Blvd.", "Keep Doin' That (Rich Bitch)" and "Nickel Rock".
Hood Billionaire is the second of two albums Ross released in 2014, being released eight months after Mastermind.
Performed By:
Rick RossHood Billionaire is the second of two albums Ross released in 2014, being released eight months after Mastermind.
Genre(s): Trap
Length: 60:09
Released: November 24th, 2014
Year: 2014