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Itchin Video (MV)




Performed By: Rick Ross
Written by: William Roberts




Rick Ross - Itchin Lyrics




We get real money my nigga
Rickie Rosay
The untouchable empire
MMG

I'm excited right now
Living life right now
Black bar mitzvah, shit is a party right now
It's too easy right now
Shout out to the conglomerate nigga
October 30th
Dreams and nightmares, that's what's all about
Meek Millie
Over a dozen whips
Young niggas get paper man
Few of my niggas multimillionaires already, no albums out
We run this shit literally
Death Jam records, salute
Warner brothers, salute
Power circle
Should be blessed to be in our presence

I whip my hair round with milk
All my boxers be silk
You pussy niggas should chill, we keep the city on tilt
I put on for my walls, down for my area code
We here to let you go to prison, gotta bury your dough
Respect that holly my nigga, yo we out here my niggas
You're so high with my niggas Salasy out here my nigga
I recite only lethal, yeah them label to pour it
I get high in the cathedral, and I feel so important
How I'm popping them bands, your man just won't stop
I f*cked them friends, came out on top
Then she wanted a bite and she named the spot
But me being the boss, I take her straight to wingstop

My fingers, they itchin', they itchin' for that paper
My fingers, they itchin', they itchin' for that paper
I ride around the city and I got that calculator
I'm a motherf*cking monster when it come to getting that paper, hey!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We get real money my nigga
Rickie Rosay
The untouchable empire
MMG

I'm excited right now
Living life right now
Black bar mitzvah, shit is a party right now
It's too easy right now
Shout out to the conglomerate nigga
October 30th
Dreams and nightmares, that's what's all about
Meek Millie
Over a dozen whips
Young niggas get paper man
Few of my niggas multimillionaires already, no albums out
We run this shit literally
Death Jam records, salute
Warner brothers, salute
Power circle
Should be blessed to be in our presence

I whip my hair round with milk
All my boxers be silk
You pussy niggas should chill, we keep the city on tilt
I put on for my walls, down for my area code
We here to let you go to prison, gotta bury your dough
Respect that holly my nigga, yo we out here my niggas
You're so high with my niggas Salasy out here my nigga
I recite only lethal, yeah them label to pour it
I get high in the cathedral, and I feel so important
How I'm popping them bands, your man just won't stop
I f*cked them friends, came out on top
Then she wanted a bite and she named the spot
But me being the boss, I take her straight to wingstop

My fingers, they itchin', they itchin' for that paper
My fingers, they itchin', they itchin' for that paper
I ride around the city and I got that calculator
I'm a motherf*cking monster when it come to getting that paper, hey!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: William Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Back to: Rick Ross

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