Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Live Fast, Die Young, artist - Rick Ross.
Date of issue: 31.12.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Live Fast, Die Young |
They say we can’t be livin' like this for the rest of our lives |
Well, we gon' be livin' like this for the rest of tonight |
And you know they gon' be bangin' this shit for rest of our lives |
So live fast and die young, live fast and die young, live fast and die young |
Livin' fast now it’s all linen rags (Unn) |
Hard headed but my top peelin' back |
Tinted glass on my '57, nigga wit' a attitude (Me) |
Young and radical, methods are mathematical (Ha) |
Let my convertible marinade on the avenue |
Mommy that’s half a million, I’m livin' la vida happy though |
Die young but fuck it, we flew first class |
Turned you to a rich bitch buy you first class |
Up in this bitch and we lit up like a screen |
Everytime we hit the charts niggas shoot up like a phene (Unn) |
Stuntin' like we printin' money wit' machines |
Which you see me wavin' Visorone Constantine (Unn) |
Like Mike my spikes they all white |
twenty fo' carat gold, baby carats worth of ice |
Ice insured, fuck life insurance |
I live for the moment and put a bullet on it (Boss) |
Got the club rockin' like a fuckin' boat |
I’m the pirate on this ship, all you mates got to go |
The party over here, everybody over here |
You know the word travel fast, everybody know we here (Yeah) |
Bottles over here, even spread it over there |
All the models over here but they swallow everywhere (Yeah) |
She came to party like it’s 1999 |
If she died on my dick |
She would live through my rhymes |
For all my young ladies that’s drivin' Miss Daisy |
Drivin' me crazy, rock the beat baby! |
Hop up out the rrrt, she beat up the payment |
I don’t give a rrrt, baby he craazzy |
I’m back by unpopular demand, least he still poppin' in Japan |
Shoppin' in Milan, hoppin' out the van |
Screams from the fans |
«Yeezy, always knew you’d be on top againnn» |
And we 'bout to hit Jacob the jeweler |
So I could be like Slick Rick and rule ya |
Dr. Martin Louis the King Jr. |
And I’ma never let the dream turn to Kruegers |
My outfit’s so disrespectful |
You could gon' ahead and sneeze 'cause my presence blessed you |
I mean, we walked in this bitch so stylish |
Niggas done mistook me for my stylist |
And I know it’s superficial and ya say it’s just clothes |
But we shoppin' in that motherfucker and they just closed |
So go ahead and just pose |
When she walked up out the dressin' room |
The store just froze |
And I know, they trying to get their cool back |
And them ghetto bitches hollin' «How you do that?"(Un) |
So they could never say we never lived it |
And if I see Biggie tonight I loved every minute |
Peter piper pickin' peppers, Rick pitched poems |
My leather long enough to keep a thick bitch warm |
When her ass is enormous |
Abs abnormal and tans in the morning on sands in California |
Seems like we gettin' money for the wrong things |
Look around Maseratis for the whole team |
Look at Haiti, children dyin' 'round the clock nigga |
I sent a hundred grand but that’s a decent watch nigga |
I’m gettin' better 'cause it would’ve leased the drop nigga |
I’ma get my money right just watch nigga |
She had a miscarriage I couldn’t cry though |
'Cause you and I know she was only my side hoe |
(Un) I got 'em catchin' amnesia |
Time to pull my fuckin' minks out the freezer |
See the links and you just think Jesus |
I’m hot till a day a day freezes |
Young and radical, methods are mathematical |
I multiplied my money through different avenues |
Took many awards |
Shook never before and for my mother I applaud |
Ms. Afeni Shakur |
Ice insured, fuck life insurance |
Three bad bitches, dope come concurrent |
Still, you know the dope won’t stop |
If I die today bury me in a dope ass watch |
(Hey, hey, hey, hey) |
(Hey, hey, hey, hey) |