Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Nobody, artist - Rick Ross.
Date of issue: 31.12.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Nobody |
You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches. |
These niggas is roaches. |
These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals. |
I’m tryna push you to supreme |
bein'. |
You don’t wanna motherfuckin'… You don’t wanna embrace your destiny, |
you wanna get by |
You don’t wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark where it’s lonely. |
You can’t handle the motherfuckin', the pain of the motherfuckin' not knowin' |
when the shit is gonna stop |
Momma’s tryna save me but she don’t know I’m tryna save her |
Man, them niggas tried to play me, man, 'til I got this paper |
You’re nobody 'til somebody kills you |
«Blast for me» — the last words from my nigga |
On the pavement, born killers, body shivers |
Drug money, dollar figures |
Hustlers movin' out of rentals, art of war is mental |
Havin' sushi down in Nobu |
Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to |
So it’s bang, no survivors |
Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises |
Stalkin' niggas on their IG’s, never; |
I be |
Still solo, Under Armour still Polo |
No wire, on fire |
My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter |
Gettin' high feelin' like it’s vodou |
Nine lives, SK with the cooler |
Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E |
I pray you smoke with me |
Go to bed with a kilo like Casino |
Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino |
Pretty cars in the driveway |
If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays |
Momma’s tryna save me but she don’t know I’m tryna save her |
Man, them niggas tried to play me, man, 'til I got this paper |
You’re nobody 'til somebody kills you |
You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas? |
What the fuck is their culture? |
Where the fuck is their souls at? |
What defines you? |
These niggas with these |
fuckin' silly looks on their faces. |
You wanna walk around with them or you |
wanna walk with God, nigga? |
Make up your goddamn mind |
I’m from where the streets test you |
Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure |
The narcotics is our product |
The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it |
New Mercedes as it peels off |
Nothin' penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all |
I said my prayer as I’m countin' sheep |
Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me? |
The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches |
We kill 'em and takin' their bitches, R.I.P |
Chinchillas on a winter night |
Black bottles when I’m feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like |
And I’m never on that tour bus |
Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ’s for two of us |
Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy |
My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy |
Touch mine, until it’s even: kill |
Like I’m knowin' every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill |
We Magic City of the networks |
Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths |
Momma’s tryna save me but she don’t know I’m tryna save her |
Man, them niggas tried to play me, man, 'til I got this paper |
You’re nobody 'til somebody kills you |
Fuck, y’all wanna talk about fuckin' jewelries and Bentley’s and Hublot’s and |
fuckin' art that niggas ain’t got on their fuckin' walls and fuckin' mansions |
niggas ain’t got. |
Niggas can’t even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, |
nigga. |
You gotta tell the truth, man. |
The truth’ll set you free, son, |
the truth will set you free |