Rick Ross ripped Mafia Music
3 plate Ricky Ross killed it
i got a feelin nigga really that my money be the root
look up at the stars she like honey where the roof?
pull up hear the dogs canaries they goin roof
even once had a job pourin tar up on a roof
that boy had it hard no facade its the truth
so now when i Menage and get massaged its the proof
proofs in the pudding & that bakin sodas takin..
paper that im makin got her takin photos naked
listenin to niggas like whistlin at wendy williams
i flip my middle finga im chillin on 20 million
the rumors turn me on im masterbatin at the top
these hoes so excited they catchin every drop
im dodgin the debacles like pot holes in Jamaica
we cut down the weed bury the paper on them acres
martin had a dream bob got high i still do both but somehow i got by
Creflo pray mike vick payed bobby brown stray whitney lost weight
kimbo slice on the pad when i write
that mayweather money lookin funny in the light
but who really cares we just throw it in the air
celebrating wealth pourin moet in her hair
excuse me her weave the bluest of weed
trunk full of white car smell like blue cheese
that boy get salad beef bout movements
BM dubs on them big thangs lookin foolish
shawty sittin low big thangs poppin
tip on the glock from a crip up in compton shootin at the cops
fuck one time i gave her to the block
i fucked 1 time we boys in the hood and nigga u lil trey
suppress ya appetite we takin ya lil tray
love my handgun but my choppa still the shit
banned in 1994 but im to legit to quit
1996 kilos was the shit but that were better then roofin that shit be bad for ya skin
niggas was ruthless lord knows that ive sinned but i thought about my future in the loops i could pin
walked out on a gig and i turned to the streets
kept my name low key i aint heard from in weeks
i came up wit a strategy to come up mathematically
i did it for the city but now everybody mad at me
mothafuck em all they sweat from my balls
if i drop anotha album i did that for my dogs
10 maybachs everybody ridin big
i just sit back like look what i did
then i bow my head and beg for forgiveness
once i said my prayer everybody back to business
[b]smokin on a blunt in my own restaurant people lookin from a distance think im big daddy kunk
reincarnated spirit of a g beef ill make u dinner take a seat so we could eat
a farrakhan aura pause on the pork you eat from the bowl while ya dog need a fork
niggas ain’t loyal snakes slithered in they coil im laughin at you cuz kill you niggas when im bored[b/]
we steppin on ya crew til tha mothafuckas crush and makin sweet love to every women that you lust
I love to pay her bills can’t wait to pay her rent Curtis Jackson baby mama
I ain’t askin for a cent
Burn the house down gotta buy another
don’t forget the gas can jealous stupid mothafucka
to another chapter paper that i captured caught up in the rapture off of gunshots and laughter
homicide is humor and nigga you lookin funny women love to stare cuz they know they see the money
i open up my mind by openenin bank accounts deposit a 100 stacks
break up wont take it out baby dats a gift maybe you could live
i knew it wouldn’t work but i just like to give used to run the street
young nigga bare feet now im in the suites and im eatin crab meats
ice so right other rappers envy they callin all my jewelers up askin what im spendin
thinkin bout BOSS not thinkin bout them this a letter to my enemies one i wont send amen
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Originally Posted by food for thought
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