Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bird Bath , by - Rick Ross. Song from the album Rise To Power, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 06.10.2008
Record label: Suave House II
Song language: English
Bird Bath |
| Give a nigga leg room, that’s what I said to him |
| Recognize this face, we do the peace sign to 'em |
| Niggas standing and whispering, I’m like «fuck what they talking» |
| Stay cool, clutch guns while I’m walking |
| Hope they stop and duck while I’m sparking |
| Introduce their mom to a homicide sergeant |
| Flaming your apartment, slug through your carpet |
| Two bricks of scale, top shelf in your closet |
| You ratting on the cartel which was nonsense |
| A code of silence, I feel a bitch should know |
| If you open your mouth I feel a bitch should go |
| Hit the quick vote, okay, slit your throat |
| Make sure here she’s not fit to flow |
| This the vote, cool, nigga |
| My fellas, this ain’t something that your bitch should know |
| If they asking about me, hey, I kick the flow |
| It’s hit and go, hit the do', hit the dough |
| Hit the dro, get some mo' |
| Flip a bird, but I gotta spit some mo' |
| Sip some Mo' in the 8−4, yo, bitch, lay low |
| Any debts I pay fo', spray fo' |
| Satisfying the mix with the yayo |
| And I was locked up on the 8th flo' |
| I’m walking out the house while it’s bright and early |
| Just hung up the phone, is ready to serve me |
| Gotta meet 'em by the dock, see, I buy the boatload |
| Don’t trust no niggas, but my vatos loco |
| When you’re me pistols are rarely needed |
| With these prices I’m strictly business and I mean it |
| Seven gram a block, I’m moving seventy in seven days |
| Got seven distributes in seven different states |
| We money mates, we never break the |
| We get your tongue froze from that uncut taste |
| We millionaire thugs making exchanges in sway lucks |
| Poke us in on distribution with cassettes and drugs |
| Never ever gunplay, that’s for the broke, I let my mouth teach |
| Walking with a two point three in the bag South Beach |
| Making deals, spending expensive wheels for thrills |
| Counting money so late, man, you gotta pop a pill |
| Receiving money and load, copping kilos from boats |
| Before this, you know our steelo was strictly cutting |
| Extortion involving bloody ransom notes |
| Now it’s kingpin folks and hundred pound cocaine quotes |
| It’s a bird bath, we move a hundred a week |
| The player price which can never be beat |
| Not by a nigga on these city streets |
| Trying to push a two gram just to get on his feet |
| This is a bath of birds served by |
| Prices you never heard, yeah, my flake is nice |
| So what I’m young and I keep the caine? |
| If you come up short that’s a bullet to the brain |
| I could break down a brick |
| Never *snorting noises* even though I stay around the shit |
| Spray around some shit, bound to get surround your clique |
| You was looking for respect, but you found a clip |
| From the sound, shit, the fo' pound found your rib |
| Have to wet your crib so I can drown your kids |
| My nigga Jabar who down on a bid |
| Copped this bitch a Benz to get around for the kids |
| Y’all fake hustlers, busters, I’ll cut ya |
| You signing to who? |
| So fuck ya |
| Musher when I clutch the bitch boy gutter |
| Box cutter, move with every word you utter |
| A bird bathtub, you cats will puff herb slaps |
| By 5 pm I’ve been in my third |
| Serving crabs, elevated to birds |
| Calimate the first, celebrated then splurged |
| On iceberg and slow, invite birds |
| More than nine birds, you saying the right words |
| My sight blurred with teflon light |
| Twenty karat ice work, Prada shoes, nice shirt |
| Still know it’s a pill strapped, cock back, kill tracks |
| Steel bats, peel windshields back for that crack |
| Still rap, block niggas feel that, yeah yeah, feel that |