Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sixteen, artist - Rick Ross.
Date of issue: 31.12.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Sixteen |
It’s funny because, it’s been on my mind lately |
Having a dope beat, a dope idea… |
16 bars ain’t enough! |
How the fuck can I squeeze my whole life into a 16 bar verse? |
You know, so many different levels, to living your life |
Depicting with your wordplay, exactly what life means to you |
16 ain’t enough |
I know y’all gonna feel me on this one |
You gotta feel me on this one |
It’s funny how things change, funny how time fly |
More than my feet travel, the more that I feel fly |
More that I make now, the more that the chicks smile |
She call me a local nigga, I opened a Swiss account |
Eisenhower status, Etta James on the dash |
Smooth as John Coltrane cruising in the Cadillac |
Seville — feel my life on the real |
We the Last Poets so this is a world premiere |
Rolling like Mick Jagger, the women just getting badder |
All I see is the money, cream, Eric Clapton |
And all I wanted was one, 16 ain’t enough |
Talking that fast money 15 every month |
When your people labelled poor, that motivated me more |
Everything I ever wore was once worn before |
Roll with the punches now it’s box office numbers |
Dressed like Sammy Davis, steamin' my marijuana |
Double MGs, double M fees |
We in every hood, nigga: government cheese |
Yachts and Yacht Masters, Old Dirty Bastard |
Floor seat for the Heat paper that I’m stackin' |
Better put away a penny for the rainy days |
Pick and roll, give and go, fuck a fade away |
Livin' like Scottie Pippen, dribble riddles for vittles |
Started off with a scribble, now I’m flowing a river |
She say my heart cold, I’m naming my son December |
Whitney died night before the Grammys — damn, what a memory |
Trump Tower and I started with a 10 speed |
Born broke had to use a nigga’s instincts |
Now I get a hundred racks for the 16 |
Waking up to turkey bacon and my thick queen |
Niggas hating, I’m just watchin' on the big screen |
3 stacks on the beat and the kicks mean |
(When 16 ain’t enough…) |
You know how sometimes you got so much to say but |
They on-, they only give you 16, heh… |
Man it’s like… I mean I got so much to say |
The world has said like so much to me, I just wanna give it right back to em |
But, I only get 16, that’s like a cage you know |
I really can’t say what I wanna say, you know it’s just a glimpse |
That’s all, just one uh, one little single glimpse |
Just a page |
But I guess I’m defeating the purpose of doing all this talking |
Summer '88, or was it '89 |
Or was it wintertime, ah, never mind |
I’m in my room, boomin' |
Drawin' LL Cool J album covers with crayolas on construction paper |
I’m trying to fuck my neighbor, I’m tryna hook my waves up |
I’m tryna pull my grades up, to get them saddle lace ups |
Before Le Marc was Jacob, before them girls wore makeup |
Before my voice would break up, before we’d tour them shake clubs |
Before my mama wake up, before my palms would cake up |
Before they tell me they love me and we’ll never breakup |
Before the time she makes love, to someone that I thought was, my homeboy |
But boy, was I wrong, now |
I don’t budge, don’t want much, just a roof and porch |
And a Porsche, and a horse and unfor-tunately |
But of course an assort-ment of tor-ches that scor-ches the skin, |
when they enter |
Intru-ders, whose tutors did a lousy job |
How’s he god if he lets Lucifer let loose on us |
That noose on us won’t loosen up but loose enough to juice us up |
Make us think we do so much and do it big |
Like they don’t let us win, I can’t pretend |
But I do admit it, it feel good when the hood pseudo-celebrate |
Hence why every time we dine we eat until our belly aches |
Then go grab the finest wine and drink it like we know which grape and which |
region it came from |
As if we can name em, hint hint, it ain’t um Welch’s |
Hell just fill three thousand more degrees cooler |
Y’all can’t measure my worth |
But when you try, you’ll need a ruler made by all the Greek gods |
Because the odds have always been stacked against me when back’s against the |
wall |
I feel right at home, y’all sitting right at home |
All Kelly green with envy while I’m jelly beans descending |
Into the palm of a child, looks up at mama and smiles |
With such a devilish grin, like «where the hell have you been» |
She yelling that selling’s a sin, well so is telling young men |
That selling is a sin, if you don’t offer new ways to win |
A dolphin gon' shake his fin, regardless if he gets in |
Or out of water, most important thing for him is to swim |
And Flipper didn’t hold his nose, so why shall I hold my tongue? |
(I miss the days of old, when one could hold his girl on his arm) |
And not set off these alarms, when cameras snap snap snap snap |
Return fire, pa-pa-pa, pa, pa-pa, pa, pa, pa |
They’ll learn why, near privacy, so essential |
They won’t make no laws, I break their laws till they see out our window |
I take the fall to make them all treat human kind more gentle |
Forsake them all, I hate them all, don’t like em don’t pretend to |
Yea something tells me, we ain’t in Kansas anymore |
All that shit that used to be cool ain’t cool anymore |
All the women you been pursuing, now they want more |
And they deserve it all, don’t settle for what ain’t yours |
(When 16 ain’t enough…) |
Does your mama know you see me, does she know you’re freaky? |
Does she ever wonder if it’s 'bout ya I am speaking? |
Do you ever ponder where I’m at when you get sleepy? |
How the hell I’m gonna tell the youth don’t be me? |
Yea |
Does your daddy think you perfect, does he know for certain? |
Does he know how you act when you pull back all them curtains? |
Do he think I’m 2Pac cause I’m black and put the works in? |
Does he know his daughter might have caught a real merman? |
Yea |