Lyrics:
And you can get the fickity-finger, the middle
You little dizzy bitch, eatin' spaghetti again
Got a 6 o'clock craving, stop, get Ciroc
It's 'bout to be
I'm back tHUG LIFE baby
Guess who's back guess who's back
Rick Ross talking facts like 2Pac's back
I'm a Thug till I die
Ain't nobody can stop me
ain't up niggaaa
[Verse 1 - Lil' Flip]
The 4-5 on my lap when I'm in the trap hood
Blueberry by the pound, now where did you get that? (smoked it)
I
it
City boy Wit it
City boy Wit it
City boy, City boy, City boy wit it
Now dip baby
C'mon Dip baby
Rick Ross what you waiting on man
Sign my Daddy
Rick
cluck
Them niggas left
That whole year we was running it up
I feel like
Rick Fox, Rick James, Rick Ross
Need a big block, big chain, big boss
Niggas
can we
Get away and exchange our feelings
Keep it poppin like a movie screening, I only wanna get away
In into heavy dope, I don't kiss very ho
get ya face twist
Cartel cocaine by the cases (cases)
Cartel mo' cars then the races (races)
A-K's on a lear jet (g-4)
Rick Ross I'ma Real threat
to ask me if Rick Ross still a G
Journalists need to get up off my D
Him and E-Class always kept it real with me
The rap game looking so childish lately
She said she need a ride she can really get lost
Hidden in the valley I can't give the sauce
Bel-Air at the crib or them Rick Ross bottles
Playboy
my fuckin' blessings
Roll my pain away
Until they roll me on the stretcher
I'm a big boss Get the money like I'm Rick Ross
If they talkin' shit about
Baby boss
Rick Ross
Going off, gravy sauce
Gimme the top with the lip gloss
Nasty boy, bi'h I'm takin off
Baby boss, ooh
Baby boss, ooh
Baby
reppin' my city
I be reppin' my city, no one can do it better
[Rick Ross:]
Let the top back on the Chevy
Then I crank up the boom
Smellin' Issey
heat
If Def Jam, they gonna flop him
And Reggaeton ain't hot in the building no mo', its okay I get it poppin'
Back to the forest trees for deep, these
Putting my feets on the table I feel like Rick Ross
I ain't talking bout fame I ain't talking bout racks just feeling that
Stop playing with me
ass like rick ross, step up, get criss-crossed
I ain't scary of nobody
I'ma man and I got big balls
Ay, these fellas talkin' down
And on they head I put
Trina, Rick Ross, Hot Box..
I got a, fat pussy for a cocksucker
I got a, hideout for a cop ducker
I got a, condo for a baller nigga
I got a,
haze out the jar
Rick Ross, I'm the best in the flesh
Getting blessed on the ?, it's a way to reflect
Hard work pays off, I'm a boss, you can tell
By
rapper, ya that's on god
We're big dogs, no Rick Ross, get criss crossed
Elevated to another level, on god
I don't stop, I got no ceiling like a drop top
My
right, what did he mean "Straight and narrow or yo' soul gets cast"?
(knock 'em out the box Rick, knock 'em out Rick)
I don't know, I think he be
right, what did he mean "Straight and narrow or yo' soul gets cast"?
(knock 'em out the box Rick, knock 'em out Rick)
I don't know, I think he be
mistakes
(Rodney, I love you, homie!)
I'm only human
(Appreciate it, dog!)
I'm a man, I make mistakes
I'ma make my mistakes
[Rick Ross]
12 years old
Came through this bitch wit the sauce geeked up like rick ross shades on like rick ross
Call based God lil b protect my bitches for me I just went
that lives behind the case
And get to give it away
My gold erupted from volcano's in the heavens
And every shrine that existed in time melting
Tombs
it rockin, Everything i say is real talk
Get it poppin, Only thing i bring is hot sauce
I'm on fire, Motherfucker call me Rick Ross
Get it while it's
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