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Rick Ross - Port of Miami 2 Album Lyrics



Rick Ross - Port of Miami 2 Lyrics






Act a Fool

It's a beautiful day to get some money
And every day is another opportunity to touch some paper
So I pray you wanna see a young nigga shine
If not nigga, put ya head in a hole, or I'ma put a whole in ya head
Ya heard me? Huh
Tell me right now nigga whatchu wanna do?
Twenty billboards in the city, who the f*ck is you
I look a lil' familiar, don't I?
Ha, ha, ha, ha, look at y'all, look at it, look at it, nigga
Maybach Music

Tell me right now nigga whatchu wanna do (huh)
Twenty billboards in the city, who the f*ck is you (what?)
I DM all of your bitches when I'm in the mood (hah)
Quick to blow a hunnid keys, yeah that boy a fool
Yeah that boy a fool
Yeah that boy a fool
Yeah that boy a fool
Oh God, yeah that boy a fool

Ass on all my bitches, so I squeeze 'em in the coupe (hah)
Fascinated with the fortune and it came true (woo)
I may pass you in the Porsche, and with the brains blue (neeum)
Got your bitch so wet, I'm steppin' out in rain boots (hah)
Thought it was Obama, way I came through (haha)
I'm talkin' different commas from them lame dudes
I'm printin' paper, boy, I even wrote a book
I got ten million cash, what, you wanna look?
I got a half a kilo in my Monte Carlo (huh)
And if I pull that Nina, boy you got a problem (woo)
Richest nigga down in Florida, like I hit the lotto (ho)
It's amazin' what could happen with a couple dollars (dollars)
They wasn't f*ckin' with me when I went to school
Goddamn, what that nigga do
He got a Rolex and you know it's new
Evander Holyfield and Lennox Lewis

Tell me right now nigga whatchu wanna do (huh)
Twenty billboards in the city, who the f*ck is you (what?)
I DM all of your bitches when I'm in the mood (hah)
Quick to blow a hunnid keys, yeah that boy a fool (boss)
Yeah that boy a fool (boss)
Yeah that boy a fool
Yeah that boy a fool
Oh God, yeah that boy a fool

Ten stacks on the stage, cause a whirlwind (whirlwind)
Take a couple stacks and give that to your girlfriend (whoo)
Love to see pretty bitches kissin' on pretty bitches
Number one in my book is all the realest bitches (hahaha)
Real niggas gettin' money, and she keep it square (square)
If she were a hunnid, then I'ma keep it there (there)
I got a Lamborghini, now I need the shoes
Took 'em on the high speed, so I made the news
Big bank boys, time to act a fool (Woo)
Big bank, you gotta help me count it too (bank)
Half a ticket, boy, I spend it in the Lex'
Seven figures, nigga, got it on his neck
I get exclusive Nikes with the light-up checks
Still scared to get indicted for the white investments (I swear)
Rich nigga, bitch, I got it tatted on me (tatted on me)
I'm married to this shit, I get my alimony (woo)

Tell me right now nigga whatchu wanna do (huh)
Twenty billboards in the city, who the f*ck is you (huh)
I DM all of your bitches when I'm in the mood (tell 'em dawg, tell 'em dawg)
Quick to blow a hunnid keys, yeah that boy a fool
Yeah that boy a fool
Yeah that boy a fool
Yeah that boy a fool (Folarin in this bitch)
Oh God, yeah that boy a fool

Yeah
Folarin in this bitch, your bitch is glad to see it (huh)
I like my women built like they could win a hundred meters (woo)
I'm not that nigga that you niggas finna suck your teeth at (nigga)
You see this watch, you raise your eyes, it's Rocky Maivia
How did I get here? (Here)
Who the f*ck is you? (Nigga)
Niggas on their high horse, cool, I'm investin' in glue
We can rumble or settle it cool
Ross told me "homie it's chess" then he made checkers the move
Yeah, Hunnid SBs
That's twenty something on me (huh)
Trust they not stuntin' on me (huh)
Some of y'all just finally catchin' up (huh)
Guess my old seminar free (huh)
'Cause all my old shit, from like '06, is on everybody feet
And now they walkin' like I talkin'
Y'all just go pay homage (Waleus)
Least before like March I had them Cactus Plant Flea Markets
And I just called up Travis
For the Cactuses you coppin'
Pink laces on my Jordans, or pink boxes on my condoms
And my closet, boy

Tell me right now nigga whatchu wanna do (huh)
Twenty billboards in the city, who the f*ck is you
I DM all of your bitches when I'm in the mood
Quick to blow a hunnid keys, yeah that boy a fool
Yeah that boy a fool
Yeah that boy a fool
Yeah that boy a fool
Oh God, yeah that boy a fool

Lord have mercy
Waitin' for you pussy niggas on the Sabbath
Huh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Olubowale Victor Akintimehin, Shamann Cooke, William Leonard Roberts, Albert Spears, Anthony Clary, Joseph Love, Kenneth Akridge
Copyright: Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, TuneCore Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Turnpike Ike

I told her that she can't f*ck me like a king no more
I told her she gotta make love to me like I'm a emperor, a emperor
Man, I done got money everywhere nigga but particularly that Turnpike south
It's really a blessing to a young nigga like Renzel

Indictment on the way, I'll say that on the case
When you get your first kilo, it should be on your face
Nigga movin' like the mob, hundred thousand franks
Dry land when you wanna be out on the lake (Swish)
Determined to be one of the fortunate men
Bitches come from everywhere, once the hustlin' commence
I see you prayin', testifying, forgotten the time
Bottom line, your car should get shot up like it were mine
20 round but the voodoo, let no humbie allowed
Mafutu, they'll all know the spirit when I'll be aroused
Made it to Star Island, started with a nickel rock
Who thought a project nigga get to get a yacht?
Two million dollars cash in the Range Rover
Opa Locka airport lets get the plane loaded
I put it on the turnpike
Gold rims, whip real, blue bills duckin' the termites

I'ma let one of my bad bitches tell y'all how much paper I got
Baby, what we living like? Twenty houses
What else? Fifty cars
Yeah, what that make you feel like?
Priceless baby
Huh, you live for me? Everyday
You would die for me? Right now
Huh, Double MG

Turnpike, real earner, Ted Turner (Me)
Whip it in the kitchen that boy was a fast learner
Tryna live it up, two millions tucked in that new Bentley truck
Ain't too many I can trust so shooters is a must
I reminisce when it was hit or miss
I was innocent 'til I hit a lick
Seven figures on a nigga mama couch
Don't want it here nobody talking 'bout their drought (Boss)
I'm chilling in the yacht and my Mitchell & Ness
Stitches in my breaches, fifty-seveness
Swishers you can smell 'em on the internet
Ain't beefing with nobody 'cause I'm killing it
I toss the pistol on the car chase (Woo)
Then walked into the church just like the boy Mase (Lord)
I'm the man out in Barcelona (Boss)
Got a couple of bad bitches out in California

Real language, biggest
Tell these niggas some old shit bae
Baby, you're the biggest (Huh, your fine ass)
The biggest boss, you're my boss baby
How much money we gonna get?
We gon' get all of it baby (Huh) We gon' take it all honey
Turnpike Ike (Uh, ha)
You're the biggest baby, you're the boss

Go get a room, right out of town, and I'm in Obi's yacht
I'm making move with all my range, you better call the cops
Second week, and I just had to go buy me a drop
Slick remarks and I'm in county, you licking the shot
Cold games, I gotta step out, I'm on to me first
Gill green, the way I capture the moment with words
City mine, I keep the killers to fill up the church
Swear to God, the quarter kilo won't get you a verse
Bring mine, stay on time, and that's where we resign
Meanwhile, we'd be having such a meaningful time
Spiritual nigga, baptize up in G5
With bad bitches who's idols feel with Nicki Minaj
Rags to richest, now I move with beautiful women
Newfound, new beginning, one day dada I grew to be winning
If you looking for me catch me on the turnpike
And when you see me, I'ma show what this work like, nigga

F*ck you think this is? Turnpike Ike nigga
Isaac Hicks, rest in peace OG
Big Mike, Michael Delancey
Free Michael Delancey
Kenneth Williams, long live Black Bo
Carol city shit nigga

He a thoughtful nigga, boss
There won't ever be a boss as big as you baby
You the biggest, the biggest boss
You the biggest, the biggest boss
You the boss, you the boss
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: William Leonard Robert
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Nobodys Favorite

(M'-M'-M'-M', M'-M'-M'-M')

Big blunt still burning in the black big Benz
Bad bitch sucking dick, 'bout to dent my rim
Duffle bag full of hundreds, let her spend my tens
Khaled told you pussy niggas all I do is win (Another one)
Rolex full of boogaloos, my dawgs in the pen
I'm f*cking with a bitch, then she gotta be a ten (Ten)
Diamonds on her neck (Neck), diamonds on her wrist (Wrist)
I put her diamonds on her mouth 'cause it's diamonds on my dick
I got diamonds on my hands (Hands), diamonds on my chest (Chest)
G5, nigga, twenty thousand, I done made a mess
All the feds taking pictures so I pose for the hoes
Got the Phantom in the front, shooters at the back door
All the strippers know to tip us, very big difference
Got a gold chain swinging in my name, eight figures
Time to let your soul glow with a hundred bullet holes
Now you screamin' to the Lord, why them boys done do you wrong?
'Fore I paint the picture (better read the scripture)
Here come the Grim Reaper, he in a pair of black Dickies
Life is such a dirty game as you walkin' through the flame
Stackin' all the bodies as they callin' out your name
See me at the new arena, best seats at the game
Haters still send subpoenas but my snipers got a aim
Sell a lot of records, not the money that I made
Or the bitches that we f*ck 'cause we share a lot of names
All the jewelers give me watches 'cause they wanna take a picture
I be moving all the product, my new house is on the river
(My new house is on the river)
(My new house is on the river)
(My new house is on the river)
My new house is on the river
So I had to buy a boat, better yet, it's called a yacht
I was then labeled a boss for the yayo that I cop
Peace

(M'-M')
(M'-M')
(Huh)

And I was raised to be a killer but I grew to be a hustler
Beg your pardon, tell you sorry, I don't argue with the customer
(Yeah, I don't argue with the customer)
(Yeah, I don't argue with the customer)
(Yeah, I don't argue with the customer)
(Yeah, I don't argue with the customer)
And I got two bad bitches and they crying for the white
Play the cards in my hand right, they dyking by tonight
Call the plug, bad news, tell the story 'til it's boring
Sounding sketchy and he know it, I don't care, I need my coin
And that's word to this dirty, I ain't lying on my groin
Any time, get in line like a rhyme in a poem
White lines in my foreign, hit rewind on the porn
That's your main? She my side, couple times, paid my bond
Got a thousand eight grams of that glitter, come and get it
Gettin' bands with the yams, f*ck the fans on the Twitter
F*ck the 'Gram, stop playin', white grams, I get rid of
White bitch sucking dick, I'll leave her class on her sweater
While I mash on the pedal, talking shit to her, tell her
That I'm mad that I met her, bitch, don't ever push your head up
Got the smackers on call, sliding bare face and all
No shells, so well done, I let 'em take the vault
Three C's, two M's, one G up in the Benz
One liter of the lean, your main squeeze up in my lens
(Your main squeeze up in my lens)
(Your main squeeze up in my lens)
Fake liter of the lean, your main squeeze up in my lens

Huh
I was raised to be a hustler, but I grew to be a killer
I be moving all the product, my new house is on the river
(My new house is on the river)
(My new house is on the river)
(My new house is on the river)
My new house is on the river
So I had to buy a boat, better yet, it's called a yacht
I was then labeled a boss for the yayo that I cop
(For the yayo that I cop)

(Maybach Music)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: William Leonard Roberts, Richard Morales
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave






Summers Reign

Summer reign
Let's let the top down
(H Money)
Convertible music

All I ask is that you hold it down for me
'Cause you told me you would be my everything
If it's love, then baby, put it on me (I got it, uh)
We could hustle this together, you and me
'Cause I told you I could be your everything (yes)
If it's love, then baby, put it on me, yeah, yeah

Double M the logo, let the hustle take its course (Maybach Music)
I let you f*ck me once, you wanna make me yours
Gucci shopping bags, I stuff 'em in the 4x4's
Stop at Louis, post a picture, kill 'em, no remorse
Killer license, light a candle, come and f*ck the boy (boy)
Whisper nothings in my ear you know that I'll enjoy (ah)
What you talkin' not a problem 'cause I handle yours
Fifty stacks a pocket really just for amateurs (haha)
Lickin' on your neck, might wake up pissing in a cup (huh)
Brut Bel-Air bottles on ice just for me to bust (yes)
When you do it like I do, I make you fall in love
Never slippin' but the difference is the all above

All I ask is that you hold it down for me
'Cause you told me you would be my everything
If it's love, then baby, put it on me
We could hustle this together, you and me
'Cause I told you I could be your everything
If it's love, then baby, put it on me, yeah (huh)

Kissing on you might create some freaky scenes
Playing in your weave before I spark my weed
F*ck you on the beach, then order UberEats
Come to this crib in Lamborghini trucks, then lose my keys
New hairdo, she do it big, the stack just for the wig
Tinted windows on the whip, Richard on her wrist
Look at how I live, this young nigga rich (huh)
A car wash every day, that dirty money bliss
Cocaine residue all on my Fendi shoes
Wanna see you shine, that's if we win or lose
Told her she can pick my casket and my favorite suit (yeah)
I pray we only lasted if we kept it true (true)
Move you to Miami, that's how gangsters play (boss)
Ass filling out her Fashion Nova every day
Time is money, and it's been a minute now
She a centerfold, every night I pin it down

(Ooh) All I ask is that you hold it down for me (hold it down)
'Cause you told me you would be my everything (hold it down)
If it's love, then baby, put it on me (put it on me, baby, yeah)
We could hustle this together, you and me (oh, yeah)
'Cause I told you I could be your everything
If it's love, then baby, put it on me (baby)

All I ask is that you hold it down for me
'Cause I told you I would be your everything
If it's love, then baby, put it on me, baby
We could hustle this together, you and me
'Cause I told you I would be your everything
If it's love, then baby, put it on me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Brian Morgan, Harmony David Samuels, Summer Marjani Walker, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






White Lines

Yo, Rozay
You got the perico?
(Maybach Music)
(Maybach Music)

I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
While she be snortin' white lines (yeah, ooh)
I just roll a blunt of mine
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
While she be snortin' white lines (Egyptian girl, she wanna build sand castles)
I just roll a blunt of mine
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
She snortin' white lines (yeah, ooh)
I just hit a blunt of mine
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
I just roll a blunt of mine (Egyptian girl, she wanna build sand castles)



I may pull up in a Porsche (in a Porsche)
Or may ride up on a horse (on a horse)
That's what you call a f*ckin' boss
I know you see and smell the smoke (smell the smoke)
But that's the way I choose to float
But you could do just what you want
Silk shirts and gold ropes (gold ropes)
But how we move, stay on the low (on the low)
She wanna hit the Cali slopes
I'm in that old-school bendin' corners
Police can smell the marijuana (marijuana)
But they respectin' my persona

I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
While she be snortin' white lines (yeah, ooh)
I just roll a blunt of mine
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
While she be snortin' white lines
I just roll a blunt of mine (Egyptian girl, she wanna build sand castles)
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
I just hit a blunt of mine (yeah, ooh)
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
She be snortin' white lines (Egyptian girl, she wanna build sand castles)

I flew her here to take her shoppin'
My credit card done got it poppin'
I put that pussy in my pocket
Cartier bracelet and locket
We like to film it, then we watch it
Tell your friend come join the party (yeah, yeah, yeah)
You a freak and I'm a prophet (a prophet)
Painted the Chevy doo doo chocolate (yeah, yeah)
I drop the top and let 'em watch
These livin' legends out the projects (yeah, yeah, yeah)
The coolest bitches in the party (in the party)
We got 'em f*ckin' in the lobby (yeah, yeah, yeah)

I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
While she be snortin' white lines (yeah, ooh)
I just roll a blunt of mine
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
While she be snortin' white lines (Egyptian girl, she wanna build sand castles)
I just roll a blunt of mine
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky, yeah ooh)
I just hit a blunt of mine
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
She be snortin' white lines (yeah, ooh)

Huh, Virgil sent me some sneakers suckers never seen (never seen)
I'm out in Paris spendin' cream, the Eiffel Tower's on the list
Of place the missus never seen (never seen)
For Louis V, I'm still a fiend, flip a brick and make a wish (make a wish)
The DNA to be a king (be a king)
Your favorite rapper facin' liens
Come and get a hit of this (hit of this)
My closest homies call it clean (call it clean)
And I got you just what you need

I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
While she be snortin' white lines (yeah, ooh)
I just roll a blunt of mine
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
While she be snortin' white lines
I just roll a blunt of mine (Egyptian girl, she wanna build sand castles)
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
I just hit a blunt of mine (yeah, ooh)
I hold my head up to the sky (hold my head up to the sky)
She be snortin' white lines (Egyptian girl, she wanna build sand castles)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: William Leonard Roberts, Deja Trimble
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






BIG TYME

God, thank you
For blessing me for everything that you've blessed me with
They tried to see me down, but we way up
Jesus
Oh this Swizz Beatz talking on a Just Blaze track
Rick Ross on the poetry
Ay, Just, this religious
God dammit, says
(Just Blaze)

Surviving R. Kelly, registered pedophiles (damn)
Tried to feed all my niggas and spread the cheddar 'round (Goddamn)
Gotta castle in Cali where I quote the Qu'ran
It's a mansion full of ghosts 'til I pass the baton
I bow my head (Bow my head), you know what's next (woo)
I say my prayers (woo), hands across my chest (Goddamn)
Breaking shackles, I'm that nigga disobeying his master (oh)
Paper chasing, standing still is a f*ckin' disaster (oh)
Emmett Till (Emmett Till), cement shoes (damn)
Can I live? My mamma rent due (woo)
Penal systems come to the Source, Benzino of C Notes (oh)
G don't wanna see it unless it's Moschino (woo)
It ain't really real until it's a kilo (damn)
I just spoke to Meech, I think I'm Pacino (say it again)
I just spoke to Meech, I think I'm Pacino (Ross)

Big time, I just do it big time (ay)
All my niggas really do it big time (Goddamn)
Lil' niggas, but we do it big time (big time)
Started with a nickel rock, now I'm big time
Big time (big time), big time (say what)
Looking in the mirror, nigga yeah you're big time (ladies and gentleman)
They hated on you, dawg but you're big time (Goddamn)
Talk behind your back 'cause you're big time (Goddamn)
Big time (woo), big time (woo)
You a bad bitch, shawty but you're big time

Yeah, you got small feet but you're big time (hey)
Bad bitches, big time
Real niggas gotta do it big time (big time)
Two seater (woo woo), big time (oh)
Throw the keys to the bitch, nigga big time
Big time, big time, big time, big time, big time
My momma gotta come to me because I'm big time (woo)
Big time, real nigga, big time (ay)
I don't give a f*ck, bitch 'cause I'm big time (big time)
'Til the day I die, I swear to God I'm big time
Amen (amen Ross)

I pray somebody tell you 'bout these bumpy roads (woo)
Only maps to follow is your bible quotes (yes)
And all them things your grandmother and father spoke (yes)
I watch your actions not just captions in the shit you post (Jesus)
Cappin' on niggas, that shit'll get you smoked (oh)
But if you rap a lil' different, that shit'll get you more (woo)
Just like baggin' them nickels up and down different coasts (ah)
I be stackin' them tickets, I'm tryna sit with HOV (oh)
I be stackin' my tickets, I'm tryna sit with HOV (A billi')
I was washing the dishes, but now I get to toast (whoa)
I'm the talk of the bitches while they sippin' mimosas (what's up??)
We could gossip 'bout the digits, discuss a few numbers (talk to me)
Too many losses inside the trenches, don't let this become us (wow)
Big time (Maybach Music) (Goddamn)
I just got a crib in Chile to chill a few summers (Goddamn)
Or catch me out in Haiti, still running up numbers (Goddamn)
If I look into your eyes, then I made you a promise
Miami Heat, I rep like my name was Udonis (damn)

Looking in the mirror, nigga yeah you're big time (damn)
They hated on you, dawg but you're big time (oh)
Talk behind your back 'cause you're big time (whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa)
Big time (big time), big time (ay)
You a bad bitch, shawty but you're big time (what's up?)
Yeah, you got small feet but you're big time
Bad bitches, big time
Real niggas gotta do it big time
Two seater (woo), big time
Throw the keys to a bitch, nigga big time

Big time (woo), big time
My barber gotta come to me because I'm big time
Big time (woo), real nigga, big time (what's up?)
I don't give a f*ck, bitch 'cause I'm big time
'Til the day I die, I swear to God I'm big time

I know you're big time
It's your time to shine

(Maybach Music)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: William Roberts II, Justin Smith, Kasseem Daoud Dean
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O CAPASSO, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC






Bogus Charms

(M'-M'-M')
(Maybach Music)
Broken memories
You will find a way

Rule number one is you can never rat
F*cking with you suckers set a nigga back
Break 'em down to baby sacks of Similac
And the only things on tracks I'm serving is the facts
Wanna pop the chain, kill you for your charm
Never mind your name, call you Uncle Tom
Shoot in front of bitches, never made a difference
'Cause impressing all the pigeons was the biggest interest
Quick to get it popping, nothing for your pockets
Crack melt like Baskin Robbins, never break a promise
Cops rushing doors, niggas flushing dope
Who really tipping Crime Stoppers? You would never know
Half my team illiterate, I know it sound pathetic
But we can each get a brick that's on a line of credit
Lot of niggas died over fake pieces
And the day I go, I pray my son, he get to read this

Broken memories always fade
Live on and you will find a way
Things will be okay, don't be afraid
Live on and you will find a way (Maybach Music)

Uh, I only remember nights that was post-traumatic
So I'm never actin' bougie like I was supposed to have it
Serving addicts, toting ladders, it was so dramatic
Putting friends before my family my worsest habit
'Cause in my hood, it ain't no friends when you get the Benz
'Cause homie in the backseat wanna split your wig
Just to play the driver seat and say he hit the lid
And he gon' post it on the 'Gram like, "Don't forget the vid'"
Seen niggas tell on their own homies just to get to LIV
Miami on a Sunday just to commit them sins
And these the ones we supposed to ride for, forget the kids
Throw your life away for a nigga that wouldn't send your kids
Twenty dollars when you in your bid, this the way we live, the way we did
'Cause I'm in the chains, f*ck the way it is
The way it was, now the only way is up
I'm never into faking love, I'm only here to wake you up
Young nigga

Broken memories always fade
Live on and you will find a way
Things will be okay, don't be afraid
Live on and you will find a way

In a 9-11, came without a ceiling
Can't imagine all the pain your brother was concealing
When we order fully loaded 'cause it's so appealing
Sue you and then do you for a couple million
Started from the bottom, rip the carpet up
Parents great examples 'cause they never argue much
Air conditioner in the window, watch the water drip
Premonitions of my death is what I wanna miss
Pretty pictures of my kids the only ones I kiss (Lord)
When you get a second chance, young brother, what a gift (yes)
New obituaries everywhere I look
Praying every hour God keep me on His books (Jesus)
Cemeteries, we pull up on 'em in foreign cars (Jesus)
Extended payments elated, now met with open arms (Jesus)
Look at all these rappers wearing bogus charms (Lord)
When they barely pay for marijuana in cigars

Broken memories always fade
Live on and you will find a way
Things will be okay, don't be afraid
Live on and you will find a way
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: William Leonard Roberts, Robert Rihmeek Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Rich Nigga Lifestyle

Uh, tell me what your crib worth
I hear you talkin' war, but have you lived first?
I'm just here to keep it real, not make you feel worse
May be a lost cause, but let's still search
Until the day I die, holdin' my guns high
Rather have a friend than enemy, which one am I?
F*ck a bird box, I wanna see my brother fly
No longer shackled in chains, young nigga crucified
Walkin' down the block holdin' my boom box
Optimistic dirty nigga, clean tube socks
They gon' keep us in the ghetto 'til we move out
And we need some better books stuffed in that schoolhouse
Rolls Royce weather
Rich dirty nigga, it took so much effort
I don't give a f*ck about who sold more records
Bein' self-made give me so much leverage, Boss

Ooh
Got money, got women, got cash, I'ma spend it on you
Maybach all tinted, but you see how you're livin', ooh
It's a lifestyle, yeah (lifestyle, yeah)
I'm so iced out, yeah (iced out, yeah)
Iced out, yeah

Look (Maybach Music)
How many niggas on your payroll?
Rich gangbangers, y'all ain't even know they make those
Double caseloads, push buttons, I got say-so
When it's war time, never lay low, y'all play roles
I can't name a fake nigga that was not exposed
How y'all niggas so surprised that Tekashi told?
Ain't a real street nigga 'less you got a code
Mines one comma, nigga, followed by a lot of O's
In the back of the 'Bach, rock a lot of gold
Rap music on the charts like it's rock and roll
Add somethin' to the art, make a lot of dope
Gotta play my part from the start 'cause that's all I know
Double M's, double R's, nigga, all I roll
Court side, goin' viral when them punches thrown
On Crenshaw takin' pictures like we Rich and Po
'Nother rich rap nigga, word to Ricky Roz'(Maybach Music)

Ooh (yeah)
Got money, got women, got cash, I'ma spend it on you
Maybach all tinted, but you see how you're livin', ooh
It's a lifestyle, yeah (lifestyle, yeah)
Hell of a lifestyle, yeah (lifestyle, yeah)
Iced out, yeah
It's a rich nigga lifestyle

Heard they wanna put ya boy to rest just like I'm Malcolm X
Jealous of my point-of-view, watchin' the sunset
I just keep on movin' so you won't catch a contact
All my dirty niggas showin' me where the love at
Drop the top, candy painted, haters eliminated
Take a photo for fanatics, I often demonstrate it
Rich nigga, dirty game, I'm talkin' Nick Saban
Rich reignin' every day, whiter than Dick Cheney (ooh)
Dirty nigga, but my sneakers new
She can go and get the two-door in a week or two
Dirty nigga with a couple things I could treat her to
Or maybe send her to the jeweler just like Meek'd do
Real niggas that was born to kill
Dirty niggas touchin' 40 mil'
40 cars on the sporty wheels
Gold bars in my shorty wheels

Ooh
Got money, got women, got cash, I'ma spend it on you
Maybach all tinted, but you see how you're livin', ooh
It's a lifestyle, yeah (lifestyle, yeah)
Hell of a lifestyle, yeah (lifestyle, yeah)
Iced out, yeah
It's a rich nigga lifestyle

Ain't nothin' changed but the commas
They say the more money, more problems
But you don't really want these problems
So watch what you say to me
Shorty, come easily
You ain't who you claim to be
I'm just tryna keep it real
Ain't no f*cks around here
'Cause we're self-made
This forever is the lifestyle

Ooh
Got money, got women, got cash, I'ma spend it on you
Maybach all tinted, but you see how you're livin', ooh
It's a lifestyle, yeah (lifestyle, yeah)
I'm so iced out, yeah (iced out, yeah)
Iced out, yeah
It's a rich nigga lifestyle

(Maybach Music)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: William Leonard Roberts, Teyana Taylor, Ermias Asghedom
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Born To Kill

Got a question, you afraid to die?
That's the only question I got for you
Huh

Flowers on my grave, doves in the sky (doves in the sky)
Rats in the sewer dance when I die (when I die)
Champagne in the shower, toast when I cry (when I cry)
I was born to kill, livin' is a crime (is a crime)
Nikes in the box until the money fill it (money fill it)
Ski mask in my pocket so don't make me peel it (make me peel it)
Yayo in my blood, it's like I need a rush (need a rush)
Head all in your system, pussies need a flush (need a flush)

Choppers on the seat as I listen to Meek
Speakin' less to niggas as bodies increase
See me on your set, better check your circumference
Might end up on your back and not bein' responsive
I was forced to kill 'cause I want to live
And if you wanna buy a crib, they give you thirty years (thirty years)
Me against the world, pistol in your clutch (in your clutch)
They like to call it freedom, it was never such (it was never such)
Niggas on the porch, weed in the blunts (in the blunts)
You go against the team, you ain't seen in months (seen in months)
Bitch nigga died, bitch niggas die (niggas die)
Flowers on his grave, doves in the sky (doves in the sky)
Pocket full of money and I need the most
I tell 'bout what you are, you niggas' needle's low (needle's low)
Bitches know you broke just lookin' at your hoes (at your hoes)
They need some newer purses than they shit they post (shit they post)

Kilo in the mornin', skip the cappuccino (cappuccino)
Bomb under my car like I was Al Pacino (Al Pacino)
Flowers for a king, flowers for a king (for a king)
So, the very day I die, this song you sing (song you sing)

Flowers on my grave, doves in the sky (doves in the sky)
Rats in the sewer dance when I die (when I die)
Champagne in the shower, toast when I cry (when I cry)
I was born to kill, livin' is a crime (is a crime)
Nikes in the box until the money fill it (money fill it)
Ski mask in my pocket so don't make me peel it (make me peel it)
Yayo in my blood, it's like I need a rush (need a rush)
Head all in your system, pussies need a flush (need a flush)

(Let's go, Snow)
I ain't playin' wit' 'em, no way, no how (no how)
Got the .40 in my 'Didas sweats right now (boom)
I'm knockin' everything down, bowl three strikes
Had to count up all the paper, took me three nights
Pray the Lord protect my soul, I'm just tryna make it (make it)
Had to leave them niggas 'lone, they was thinkin' basic (yeah)
So many hundreds in my pocket like some Hammer pants (Hammer pants)
Shit be funny 'til you ridin' in that ambulance (woo)
Say my name three times, I'm the Candy Man (Snow)
So many birds outside, call it Candy Land (dope)
Pussy nigga turned to owls, they like, "Who nigga?" (who nigga?)
Brought them bananas for the monkeys at the zoo, nigga (yeah)

Flowers on my grave, doves in the sky (doves in the sky)
Rats in the sewer dance when I die (when I die)
Champagne in the shower, toast when I cry (when I cry)
I was born to kill, livin' is a crime (Is a crime, Snow)
Nikes in the box until the money fill it (money fill it)
Ski mask in my pocket so don't make me peel it (make me peel it)
Yayo in my blood, it's like I need a rush (need a rush)
Head all in your system, pussies need a flush (need a flush)

Powers of position I'm addicted to
That's what sweepin' up the block just for a nickel do
I put down nickel rocks just in the nick of time
Now that S500 Benz just circle fifty times
Hundred shots, don't make me put that .50 down
But when that bitch go off, I bet it make a nigga proud
Walk up on you and it make a bigger sound
Then I'm back to the strip club to blow a bitch allowance
We know them niggas tellin' but we hustle harder (hustle harder)
I was born to kill, I pray I die a martyr (die a martyr)
You should die today but I'ma try tomorrow (try tomorrow)
I always end a threat that's followed by the flowers
I just got a phone call, that boy Bo Diddley home
I bet in thirty days that boy be fifty strong
Race to get a million just the way we think
Middle of the summer in a cheetah mink (cheetah mink)

Kilo in the mornin', skip the cappuccino (cappuccino)
Bomb under my car like I was Al Pacino (Al Pacino)
Flowers for a king, flowers for a king (for a king)
So, the very day I die, this song you sing (song you sing)

Flowers on my grave, doves in the sky (doves in the sky)
Rats in the sewer dance when I die (when I die)
Champagne in the shower, toast when I cry (when I cry)
I was born to kill, livin' is a crime (is a crime)
Nikes in the box until the money fill it (money fill it)
Ski mask in my pocket so don't make me peel it (make me peel it)
Yayo in my blood, it's like I need a rush (need a rush)
Head all in your system, pussies need a flush (need a flush)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jay Jenkins, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave






Fascinated

Such a cloudy day, uh
Help me, Lord
Yeah
Oh, Lord
Oh, Lord
Hold ya head, nigga
Hold ya head, nigga
Lord, Lord
Oh, Lord
What's a hundred grand to a young nigga?
My dog doin' twenty as a young nigga
I'm prayin' for his son, he's a young nigga
Strapped with my gun as a young nigga

Hundred round, nigga, hangin' out a Chevrolet (huh)
Just a young nigga tryna see my f*ckin' pay (ahh)
My daddy caught a bus, never lookin' back
Got me standin' in the rain, first fifty pack (woo)
It's never been the same, now I'm gettin' stacks
Tattooed names on a nigga back (Black)
Rest in peace, nigga, to my lil' niggas ('Nut)
Rest in peace, dyin' as a lil' nigga (P-Nut)
Buried like a soldier, he's a true nigga (P-Nut)
Throw the flag on his casket, he's a true nigga (P-Nut)
You pussy niggas talkin' like you knew niggas
Young niggas, y'all some new niggas

Candy paint fascinate a young nigga (huh)
Gold watches fascinate a young nigga (huh)
Fine bitches fascinate a young nigga (yeah)
They just wanna assassinate a young nigga (woo)

They wanna give you five (five), wanna give you ten (ten)
Fifteen (fifteen), send you back again (damn)
Gave my dog life, said he was a killa (killa)
Conspiracy for me 'cause I run with dealers (whoa)
Gave a nigga thirty, he converted Muslim (inshallah)
Top down, nigga, got them bitches lookin' (inshallah)
Real nigga, Gs on my belt buckle (huh)
Huggin' on my mama 'cause niggas don't love ya (I love ya)
Cold pistol, nigga, cold bullets (I love ya)
Shout out to my dog, he gon' pull it
I put that on my soul, that's on everythang
I put that on my soul, that's on everythang (Maybach Music)

Candy paint fascinate a young nigga (huh)
TV fascinate a young nigga (huh)
Yella hoes fascinate a young nigga
Hey, hey

I be cryin' in my car, nigga
Nightmares of dyin' in my car, nigga (I ain't lyin')
I just wanna stack my meatloaf
I just wanna keep my heat close (I got it)
I heard a nigga killed his self
I heard a nigga killed his self
I'ma ride 'til it's all gone
Uh, I'ma ride 'til it's all gone
Rest in peace to the trill
Rest in peace to the real
Straight from me, nigga will
And believe me, a nigga will

Oh
Maybach Music
Oh
Whoa
I know you goin' through some thangs, nigga
I got chills goin' up my arm
My nigga gone

Pussy nigga, I'm independent
Pussy nigga, I want every pendant
Keep your business, keep your phones, nigga
I'm tryna do my own, nigga
Keep them pussy boys from 'round me, nigga (oh Lord)
Keep all pussy boys from 'round me, nigga (please, Jesus)
Keep all pussy boys from 'round me, nigga (please, Jesus)
I'm scared, these pussy boys surroundin', nigga
I'm so real, I'm so real
I'm so real, I'm so real
I feel alone, nigga, all alone (that's all my life)
I feel alone, nigga, all alone (that's all my life)

Candy paint fascinate a young nigga (young nigga)
Gold watches fascinate a young nigga (I got 'em all)
Fine bitches fascinate a young nigga (I want 'em all)
They just wanna assassinate a young nigga

What's a hundred grand to a young nigga?
My dog doin' twenty as a young nigga
I'm prayin' for his son, he's a young nigga
Strapped with my gun as a young nigga

Candy paint fascinate a young nigga
Gold watches fascinate a young nigga
Fine bitches fascinate a young nigga
They just wanna assassinate a young nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: William Leonard Roberts, Thomas Bennett, Corey Burroughs, Bill Withers, Avery Branch
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






I Still Pray

It's like an itch you can't scratch
It's like a bitch you can't shake
I still wanna

Sleeping with the finest, the thread count is bindless
Security blanket of cocaine, I am Linus
In this climate I'm Kareem Burke tied in
The Roc silent partner I ain't throwing up the diamond
Throwing on the shearling, collars up, bottles up
Sparkles to the table, got 'em feeling like he's Merlin
Whirlwind, powder makes your world spin
Learn from OGs, Alfa Romeos and Sterlings
Updated that, upgraded that
Suffocation blue in the insides potato sack
Yeah, talk money, shit I'm made of that
Cocaine parties like the seventies, I cater that
You know what fame is? Sitting with the woman
Of your dreams and forgetting what her name is
You know what pain is? Flushing two bricks
And tryna have a nigga strain it out the drainage

[Chorus]
See my face on the news and it ain't Tivo
I still wanna sell kilos
It's like I'm throwing rocks at the pen begging for the Rico
I still wanna sell kilos
Searching for the fish scale like I'm tryna find Nemo
I still wanna sell kilos
That's what happens when you Michael and they try to treat you like you Tito
I still wanna sell kilos

Grew up watching momma car repoe'd
A little nigga staring through the peep hole
How you think I felt knowing daddy wasn't there
Recycling cans cause nobody ever cared
Get it how you live, always echoed in the streets
When we talking business, talking on the phone cease
Feds listening to conversations through my OnStar
Piecing puzzles together solving homicides of I's
Dice game chatter, better bring your stash out
Red velor, I'm in the white glass house
Half a ticket bitches quick to drop it on the scale
City of dope where real niggas sell yay'
Everyday a nigga dies and we can't ask why
Show 'em all love, the bitches f*cked on the side
Tony Montana, tailor made suits in the church
Rolls Royce Corniche, trunk full of work

[Chorus]

Testarossa top models, G fours
Gucci pass the crease off, everything I climb in, I win
Richard Mille Tourbillon, remarkable timing
Black label everything, logos in the lining
Bell Biv DeVoe push poison like a copper head
Powder falls, smoke clears through the walking dead
The Rose bottles pour for the champions
You'd think it was a Grammy win, celebration spills
Through the morning like an Ambien, bitches love my ambiance
Chain swinging, ticker taping like it's Mardi Gras
Thousand niggas deep, never needed body guards
Thousand keys that I'm about to do Pilate's on
Where the kings crowned like the grill a Maserati's on
Candy coated parked, doors ajar, on a stripper
Blew a fuse and caught a body on, cocaine storaging
Liva living dreams, y'all DeLoreans pouring in

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: LEIGH ELLIOT, RENARD EAST, TERRENCE THORNTON, WILLIAM ROBERTS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Running The Streets

Maybach Music
I just want you to know you deserve the world
I'm apologizin' right now
She be stayin' up
When I ain't comin' home
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets
It's so hard to get sleep

She be stayin' up
When I ain't comin' home
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets
She be stayin' up
I ain't comin' home
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets
It's so hard to get sleep

Fake niggas always caught up in the realest shit
Mama always told me, "Watch who you be dealin' with"
Snake bitches, can't get wrapped up in your feelings with
Never watered down, my niggas on some killin' shit
Miami mercenaries, really, that's the double M
Born baller, baby boy, I be above the rim
Quick step, then I plant, just like I'm Durant
Peyton Manning with the poems, go look at the stats
Went from sleepin' on the floor to pissin' Moet
All my teachers sellin' dope, even sold me a sack
Wake up in the mornin', so I need to smoke
When I really need to keep my queen close
MAC-11, dirty money on my prayer rug
Say a prayer for me, really show a player love
Time to touch a million, did it with finesse
Never wait up for me, go and get your rest

She be stayin' up (she be stayin' up)
When I ain't comin' home (I ain't comin' home)
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets (yeah)
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets
She be stayin' up (she be stayin' up)
I ain't comin' home (I ain't comin' home)
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets (yeah)
It's so hard to get sleep

She be staying up, we be layin' up, shit
When I ain't around, who you layin' up with?
F*ckin', f*ckin', f*ckin' it up and I been
Runnin', runnin', runnin' it up, yeah
We call it a gang, but that's who I work with
Who I put in pain, who I put in work with
Always saying something me, when I be
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets
But would you still be f*ckin' with me
If I was wearin' the same jeans for a week?
If I was hungry and I ain't have nothing to eat?
Would you, yeah, would you still think about it when you up?
Don't think about me when I'm gone
'Cause I ain't comin' home
And you'll be all alone
So think about it when you up

She be stayin' up (don't think about me when you gone)
When I ain't comin' home ('cause I ain't comin' home)
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets (and you'll be all alone)
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets (so think about me when you up)
She be stayin' up (about me when I'm gone)
I ain't comin' home (about me when I'm gone)
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets (comin' home)
It's so hard to get sleep

Runnin' the streets like a runny nose
Ain't no love in the streets when you bleedin' from a bullet hole
Like Stanley Yelnats, he caps, his head red
The feds' come across, lost, a man's dead
Dyslexic, spell Dade
Street sweeper clean up the streets like Cascade
They back on the rampage, like Quentin
Shippin' 'em off to San Quentin
Ran wicked with some niggas on the block
Still stickin' on the beam
Gentrification, junkies, and fiends
Workin' later, so I'm sendin' a message off to my queen
If I don't make it out alive, you and I
Is the only thing important to me, in case that I die
Message received, she's a blessing indeed
Make sure I put something away for when she carry my seed
For my unborn son, I got a few words left
Be better than me, and everything, on my last dyin' breath, ah

She be stayin' up
When I ain't comin' home
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets
She be stayin' up
I ain't comin' home
Runnin', runnin', runnin' the streets
It's so hard to get sleep
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Artist Julius Dubose, Chad Thomas, Samuel Saint-Jean, Denzel Rae Don Curry, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.






Vegas Residency

Black Bo, you know we miss you
J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League
M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music
Since everybody wanna speak they mind
Maybach Music

Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry
For every innocent brother charged with a homicide
Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats
Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac
Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word
Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird
Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care
Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire
Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere
Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill
Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close
Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes
Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine
Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time
Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack
Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?
Black bottles through the night until the morning back
Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that
Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing
Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team

I got a room that's on the highest floor
Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough
'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul
Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post
(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)
We could meet up out in Vegas
I'ma pull out the Vacheron
We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga

I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures
Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season
Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to
Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2
I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me
Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me
Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni
Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em
Build a military for artists when they wanna beef
I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D
F*ck 'em on the faucet when they in the office
Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers
Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork
2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse
Go and get it just to give it to the inner city
20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City
Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row
Murder one, you f*ckin' other niggas murder mo'
Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes
305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)
So many niggas out here singin' songs
That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along
Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job
Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob

I got a room that's on the highest floor
Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough
'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul
Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post
(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)
We could meet up out in Vegas
I'ma pull out the Vacheron

Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe
Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul
Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)
Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos
Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret
Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas
Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny
Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree
Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor
All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all
Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off
The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss
Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip
F*ck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss
Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch
Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots
In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', f*ck the cost
For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch
Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course
Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off
Ah, I catch my breath, and holler "Batter's up"
I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much
M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much
Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch
Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach
Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)
Facts, I'm well connected in this city life
We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights
Gave me a brick until I asked him "What would twenty like?"
On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice
(I was by myself last night)

I got a room that's on the highest floor
Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough
'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul
Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post
(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)
We could meet up out in Vegas
I'ma pull out the Vacheron
We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga
(Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)
(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)
(Win, lose draw)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Erik Ortiz, Kevin Crowe, Raphael Ramos, William Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © USNVRTHEM RECORDS LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Maybach Music VI

J.U.S.T.I.C.E League

Oh, glidin' through the city to my place (my place)
It feels like we're floatin' up in outer space (and you can still)
Oh, you can find me in my Maybach
Listening to shit from way back (Maybach Music)
Oh, ah, Maybach Music (Maybach Music)

Flows mind-blowing, these niggas switching the topic
All dick-riders, your label labeled erotic
You got a couple dollars, but really, it's barely modest
Couldn't sign me if you niggas was payin' homage
Playin' both sides, convicted you with verdict
Pay a lil' rider, come hit you up for the murder
Chains all hollow, I peeped soon as I heard it
These niggas be talkin' shooter, but quick to send they attorney
Is it really real, like Candy Lady allure?
Money overboard, kilos washin' ashore
Paintings on the wall, Versace down to the drawers
Currency come in Crypto, you know they tapin' our calls
Chariots and lofts, niggas legs crossed
Talkin' long money, but they conversation's short
New accolades with women for me to toss
They call it "the road to riches", regardless, I had to walk
Now it's too many cars, they say I live in a bubble
But I make it the point, we poppin' all through the Summer
Got pilots and gunners, receivers, passers and punters
My pockets playin' for keeps, G's get more than what's common
I made a few mistakes, I pray I get to repent
The passion came from the pain, I'm paintin' you all my sins
Warhol, Art Basel how it's so soft
More raw 'til Hov cut the 'fro off

Glidin' through the city to my place (my place)
It feels like we're floatin' up in outer space (and you can still)
Oh, you can find me in my Maybach
Listening to shit from way back (Maybach Music)
Oh, ah, Maybach Music

Let's go for a ride to where your heart desire
I put your heart in drive, I'll let you borrow mine
My feet on top the clouds, I walk a thousand miles
She got them soft pussy lips, call it cotton mouth
And I'm on autopilot, got a larger closet
I'm at target practice, you at Target shoppin'
Second hand smoke got her vision partly cloudy
Her eyes get so watery, them bitches started drownin'
On the ride of a lifetime
Watch out for the rats, mice, cons and the pythons
No Triple H, my God, I'm so sky high
Comin' down from the night sky, like a lightening rod
Shine like some ice, nice vibes, like a kite flyin'
No strings attached, we replace it with a lifeline
Out of body feelin', out our clothes and our right minds
Baby, ride me like a bumpy road to the high rise, yeah, yeah

Glidin' through the city to my place (my place)
It feels like we're floatin' up in outer space (and you can still)
Oh, you can find me in my Maybach
Listening to shit from way back (Maybach Music)
Oh, ah, Maybach Music
Glidin' through the city to my place (my place)
It feels like we're floatin' up in outer space (And you can still)
Oh, Maybach Music
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Erik Ortiz, Kevin Crowe, Hubert Eaves III, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Gold Roses

Yeah
I'm home now, it's over now, so
Yeah

She got a thing for Chanel vintage that dropped before she could speak English
Do you love me or love seekin' attention, I mean which one is it?
You keep callin' me ya twin, but twins ain't this different
Mentally I'm already on next year, that's some 20/20 clear vision
You sayin' let you finish, I ain't tryna hear it
I'm all for spiritual liftin', but I don't fly Spirit
I'm all for findin' happiness, but down to die serious
All smiles, Kevin Durant trials
Had to blow it on a court, I must have blew a milli'
I'm walkin' on all charges, that's my new Achilles
I know they love to rock a check, but who gon' do it really? Really?
My depositions never surface
Tanenbaum know the logo on the jersey, it's gettin' purchased
Ten years in and y'all yet to hear my most impressive verses
Paid the cost to be the boss, wasn't even my most expensive purchase
Trust when I say I'm never on the shit they assumin' I'm on
Tales about me are like corridos in Culiacán
Sashimi from Saito, you know that man two Michelin Star
Postcard from Grace Bay, sendin' my distant regards
Vision wasn't mine, told my niggas the vision was ours
Still a part of shorty even if we've been livin' apart
Roxx'll do you filthy for me soon as I give him the nod
Meanin' he'll blast for me like puttin' the 6 with the God
Hop on a float and show the city the one they appointed
The one that's rebuildin' schools and feedin' the homeless
Hang with my niggas, but sometimes I be tryna avoid it
'Cause they'll get to poppin' out of place like they double jointed
Goals was the top of the pyramid in this shitty world
"I gotta get the most of everything" is the axis on which it sit and twirls
Point blank period, like a City Girl
And then I bring it back to 50 world

Ay, whoa
You made me this way, yeah
Before I'm gone outta this place, yeah
Put some flowers in my face, won't you?
Let me know that I did okay, yeah
Don't wait 'til some other day, no, no
They love to wait 'til it's too late, it's too late
This different right here, yo (ay)

I was nominated, never won a Grammy
But I understand, they'll never understand me
Lot of lives lost, but I never panicked
Lot of lines crossed, I never did a Xanny
A hundred room mansion but I felt abandoned
Love makin' love, but where will love land me?
Jealous, so their bitches be actin' like they sleepin' on us
But they speakin' on us, jewelers quote us even numbers
Still blowin' smoke as angels float above us
Love givin' back, but will they ever love us?
Chanel in the mail, FedEx from Pharrell
And what I got for sale just sit on the scale
Triple beam dream, a buck on the shades
I really seen things give mothers the shakes
I really bought cars for women on face
I know it seem odd, but money amazin'
College loans really did f*ck up her credit
Discover cards, look back, I know she regret it
But we keep pushin', keep our foot on the pedal
In the mirror she a blessin', rebukin' the Devil
Livin' on the edge, she keepin' me level
Money come and go, I'ma keep you forever
Money come and go, I'ma keep you forever (forever)
Slip-on glass slippers and tickle with feathers
Everywhere we go, we create a dilemma
Coming to America, really the set
I'll let your soul glow, I'm keepin' you wet
All my cold Decembers, I know she remembers
Forgiveness for a sinner, but is it that simple?
Holdin' on your hands, your body's a temple
Fly you out to Cannes, ménages with bitches
Lobsters and the prawns, thought you was Spanish
Bottles for the Don, our parties the biggest (biggest, biggest)
(Maybach Music)

Ay, whoa
You made me this way, yeah
Before I'm gone outta this place, yeah
Put some flowers in my face, won't you?
Let me know that I did okay, yeah
Don't wait 'til some other day, no, no
They love to wait 'til it's too late, too late (ay)

Had a dream she was singin' to me like Gladys Knight
True love in the projects is called paradise
All your niggas left, you wasn't actin' right
But honesty itself a small sacrifice
My money bag heavy, got me packin' light
You movin' funny, can you fill my appetite?
Niggas' conversations, a lot of it false
He own condos right over Carnegie Hall
Speak about your cars, but all of 'em parked
Your niggas' money light, come out of the dark
You really are my type, that's not a facade
One of the reasons why I write, we got a synopsis
I'm always at the top of barbershop gossip
After further thought, better not knock 'em
Allocate some dollars to go out shoppin'
Bitch, we on the real, it's time to stop talkin' (stop talkin', stop talkin')

Ay, whoa
You made me this way, yeah
Before I'm gone outta this place, yeah
Put some flowers in my face, won't you?
Let me know that I did okay, yeah
Don't wait 'til some other day, no, no
They love to wait 'til it's too late, too late (ay)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Anderson Hernandez, Aubrey Drake Graham, Boris Bergman, Joshua Scruggs, Khristopher Van Riddick-Tynes, Leon III Thomas, Ozan Yildirim, Sylvain Krief, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Unison Rights S.L., O/B/O CAPASSO, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC






Back to: Rick Ross


Port of Miami 2 is the tenth studio album by American rapper Rick Ross. It was released on August 9, 2019, by Maybach Music Group and Epic Records. The album features guest appearances from Wale, Gunplay, Summer Walker, Dej Loaf, Swizz Beatz, Meek Mill, Nipsey Hussle, Teyana Taylor, Jeezy, YFN Lucci, Ball Greezy, A Boogie wit da Hoodie, Denzel Curry, John Legend, Lil Wayne, and Drake. Port of Miami 2 serves as the sequel to Ross' debut album, Port of Miami, released in 2006. It was supported by three singles: "Act a Fool", "Big Tyme", and "Gold Roses".
Performed By: Rick Ross
Genre(s): Hip hop
Length: 66:29
Released: August 9th, 2019
Year: 2019

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