Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rick Ross, artist - Rick Ross. Album song New Wave / Another Level, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 10.10.2019
Record label: Real Talk Entertainment
Song language: English
Rick Ross |
| You wanted to fucking walk around these roaches |
| These niggas is roaches |
| These niggas is mere motherfuckin’mortals |
| I’m tryna push you to supreme being |
| 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 |
| Mama’s trying to save me But she don’t know I’m trying to save her |
| Man, them niggas tried to play me Man, 'til I got this paper |
| You’re nobody 'till somebody kills you |
| «Blast for me"-- the last words from my nigga |
| On the pavement, born killers, body shivers |
| Drug money, dollar figures |
| Hustlers moving out of rentals |
| All the war is mental |
| Having 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, stalking niggas on their IG’s |
| Never IB, still solo, underarm is still Polo |
| No wire, on fire |
| My desire for fine things made me a liar |
| A shooter, getting high feeling like it’s voodoo |
| 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 a c-note |
| Janet Reno, we all we got the creed to Nino |
| Pretty cars in the driveway |
| If you cut it then you sideways |
| Double up, crime pays |
| Mama’s trying to save me But she don’t know I’m trying to save her |
| Man, them niggas tried to play me Man, 'til I got this paper |
| You’re nobody 'till somebody kills you |
| You fucking 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 fucking silly looks on their faces |
| You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga? |
| Make up your got damn 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 |
| Nothing penetrates the steel doors |
| Gang signs, see 'em all |
| I said my prayer as I’m counting sheep |
| Never really athletic, but I play for keeps |
| Do you feel me? |
| The mortician, the morgue filling with more snitches |
| We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P |
| Chinchillas on a winter night |
| Black bottles when the feeling like you wanna know what winter’s like |
| And I’m never on that tour bus |
| Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ’s, there’s two of us Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy |
| My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, make me filthy |
| Touch mine until you receive and kill |
| Like I’m knowing every heathen will |
| Closed the deal with Steven Hill |
| We Magic City of the networks |
| Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net works |
| Mama’s trying to save me But she don’t know I’m trying to save her |
| Man, them niggas tried to play me Man, 'til I got this paper |
| You’re nobody 'till somebody kills you |
| Fuck you wanna talk about? |
| Fucking jewelries and Bentley’s and Hublot’s |
| And fucking art that niggas ain’t got on their fucking walls |
| And fucking mansions niggas ain’t got |
| Niggas can’t even pay the IRS, let alone their fucking staff, nigga |
| You gotta tell the truth, man |
| The truth’ll set you free, son |
| The truth will set you free |