Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Great Americans, artist - Rick Ross. Date of issue: 16.09.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
The Great Americans |
| Where young niggas die every few seconds |
| But we still just wanna be great Americans, yeah |
| Uh, I was born to be another number |
| So was number 1, I pray I never fumble |
| Uh, I used to wear the cheapest clothes |
| Now my posters in the reefer stores (huh) |
| I be posted like I’m 7'4″ |
| 'Til the day I’m knocking at my heaven’s door |
| Just like Club LIV when that confetti fall |
| I fell in love with the game, damn it’s a distant love |
| I let her see it just to tell her friends what she saw |
| 200 mil' how I get it, damn I can’t be far |
| I keep my sneakers low cut |
| Heat fitted, G-5 with the nose up |
| Self made, St. Regis with the toast up |
| Room service, Belaire, time to toast up |
| My attraction have African in them happy homes |
| Never seen a square nigga with a happy home |
| All the money generated, double M the greatest (Maybach Music) |
| Rest in peace to every genius that never made it |
| Don’t it sound like I’m dedicated? |
| Joe Flacco deal, nigga with hot flows |
| Whole cheerleading squad all through my iPhone |
| All them hoes in my iPhone, nigga, yeah |
| Sneakers snow white, nigga, at the 50 yard line (huh) |
| «It's Kay Foxx reporting live |
| A Carol City rapper facing the music |
| Connected to an alleged robbery and assault |
| Gunplay surrendered at Miami-Dade headquarter |
| The charge armed robbery means he cannot post bond.» |
| Momma poor, daddy poor, what’s the antidote? |
| Wind through the window blew the candle out |
| No lights, many cold nights |
| Hungry belly, burning, yearning rice |
| Rent late, on a plate, just a blank space |
| Old girl lookin' at me with the blank face |
| Made it off a prayer and a saint’s grace |
| AK’s kept me in a safe space |
| Sucka free for the one three |
| Probably on tour for the one four |
| Sucka tried to give me life plus one more |
| But I gave it back and told them «fuck y’all!» |
| In this day and time I got a '89 |
| Miami state of mind, cocaine, steak and wine |
| Understand I over came |
| Made it through rain and open flames |
| Niggas was sold for, practically nothin' |
| Who became great Americans |
| Uh, my car be parked out front of Darby (yeah) |
| My chick Barbie, your bitch gar-B |
| A-G-E, I just A-T-E |
| Sippin' A-C-E over at A-B-E (nice) |
| And offers, I’m not a back-and-forth'er |
| I don’t make friends baby, I make offers |
| Like you can get with this (or) or you can get with that (huh) |
| I think you get with this (huh) cause this is where it’s at (haha) |
| Hate when broke niggas try to play mediator (word) |
| Keep your two cents to yourself, you might need it later (word) |
| Silence is golden, duck tape is silver (yeah) |
| Professional shooters, Leon and Mathilda |
| Yeah, my woman vary, just give me a young Tahiry (feel me?) |
| Who do whatever I ask of her, dead Siri (feel me?) |
| My theory keep winning as the days change |
| Yesterday’s home-runs won’t win today’s games, nigga |
| Win today’s games, nigga, uh |
| Life’s a game, it’s only how you play it |
| Take advice from a few who made it |
| Got a chance, you should go and take it |
| Get it now, homie, why you waitin'? |
| Got a dream? |
| You should go and chase it |
| Be creative, stop bein' basic |
| Keep it movin', don’t be complacent |
| Show love, why you hatin'? |
| You could be somebody famous |
| You could be somebody famous |
| Great American dreams, yeah |
| This the legendary DJ Scream talkin to you |
| «Self Made 3» |