Lyrics Hold Me Down - Rick Ross

Hold Me Down

If you ridin' with your female acquaintance, explain this one to her girl
When you wake up in the mornin' go mail your man some pictures and a 20 dollar
money order
I gotta tell you somethin' else though
I remember the days when I used to jack my dick
And had to catch a bus, to go check a flick
Unless it was one of those nights I stole my sisters car
I brought it back on empty, simply didn’t give a fuck
Be my guest you can call my mom
Shes the one who gave me the nickname Teflon
Added the don
Impressed by the way I kept calm when searched by cops with boy in my palm
Shit, I’ve done see a lot
I might crack a smile, but i’ll clean your clock
I done did it before, matter of fact done it for free
If was free, he would of did it for me
Guns spittin' for me, Better go get it from me
Guess that 10 year sentence wasn’t fitted for me
But when your released, I got a few gifts for you
Half my record label, a quarter mill on the table
How many niggas you rode with will hold you down if you go to jail
Or put the Benz' up for your bail
Yeah, cuz if its fair it war when them riders start runnin'
Will they have to start gunnin'
In God’s name, free your pain
Sinc he was down, Carol City ain’t been the same
Seventeen years old, floatin' on gold things
The same pain was my nigga
He might buy you a sack, and let you blow the whole thing
And he might get you some head, won’t even know the hoes name
God damn, I miss my nigga
To be honest I wanna kiss my nigga
Hug my nigga, talk to my nigga
Kick the prison door in and walk with my nigga
I’ll stalk your nigga, chalk your nigga
If I thought your nigga was a cop oh nigga
Working for the cops came in for the talk oh nigga
If somebody finna' snitch, stop your nigga
If I spot your nigga, I gotta pop your nigga
I ain’t aiming at his legs but at the top of your head
Being a black male in America is a charge
Pullin' together your family when your brother behind bars
Fantasy of nice car, wanna know who we are?
All I say to the crackers is «bitch I got a job»
No I’m lying, But I’m talking about a —
Would of rather, seen em scatter
Chit chatter, my pockets fatter
Fuck your corporate ladder
Bein' intelligent today is a dagger
Look em' in the eyes whenever you speak
Make em' feel you were that close to gettin' a degree
I already want a reason to kick your ass to sleep
And they know these employees are far from bein' cheap
I was raised in these streets
Still one of the coolest cats you could ever meet
Besides its only the heat
I don’t give detectives reasons to fuck with me
I’m quiet, on the murder diet
I’ve seen flesh turn from brown to violet
Not one word, no need to dial it, hes expired
This is no longer desired
And last hired, until somone saw it in the streets
I’m the nigga