Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Strapped, artist - Rick Ross. Album song Rise To Power, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 06.10.2008
Record label: Suave House II
Song language: English
Strapped |
I may not have been made for this rap shit dawg |
Niggas talkin' shit, on records and shit |
I’ma put these hands on your ass nigga |
You know I’m strapped with the mac |
Try me if you want I blow a bitch bad |
Catch me on the band she playin gloves and goggles |
On a? |
Benz V12 with a bottle |
A hollow and a handwave?, 50 to follow |
I put one knee on blow, your ass been swallow |
If you bite me dog, I’ma get your ass pavo |
Wake up the no-ribs and the friends in Chicago |
I’m rolling in Miami with, momos on the Lac |
Eyes? |
holdin' a stolen mac |
Aiming at the first 'O on your Polo cap |
Find the tool at any, signed a fool |
Got a half tuition for my daughter’s private school |
Reason for the violent moves, silent? |
Keep birds on us like the pirate’s do |
I’m embarrassed to speak for who your signin' to |
Ya, ya all niggas stupid for free, fuck |
I don’t know if you noticed Joe, but I grew up on focus ho |
With nothin' to lose, it’s nothin' to prove |
No other option but bustin' the tool, runnin' to school |
With illegal things in my locker, I flame your posture |
I critically acclaim an Oscar, sprayin' at your Rasta |
? |
I made a mistake and hit your father |
I ain’t sued for that I shock ya, snatch your rockets, pop ya |
Respect me or Noah ya all better |
I’m make you an honorary pall bearer |
For small cheddar, bet ya wet ya brung cheddar, funds-getter |
You a chipp off a ton sniffer, Lung-filler |
My style none iller, gun-spiller flow for fun stealer killer |
How you gonna stand the Kelly gave up potatoes for cheese still a peeler |
Belly hot top stealer pillar, fedi-feller big-welly dealer |
You cheaper than a Pica Deli dinner |
I strike like a match, put my life on a track |
Hit? |
pikes with my wife and some crack |
When I get her for a piss, I twistin' like a sack |
Off goes the seat belts, out comes the snacks |
Cop from mia out comes the mac |
Out goes your back, out comes you sad |
It’s a lot of niggas bark, but they really won’t stretch |
I have your ass like, man where we goin' at? |
If you’re lookin for beef, I’ll be too |
Hang on your back, jumpin' like an eq |
Can fill your waist, legs, feet, too |
A witness film the shooter, I’m like me too |
They went that way, I didn’t see no car |
But listen close unless you wanna to see these balls |
In jail you’d be barred from the TV squad |
Your soft fans, really wanna beat me hard |