B.L.O.W. (Block Life Is Our Way)

[Intro] Pusha T: Woman: How do I know Daddy this stuff's goin' scary Rick Ross: Yo Papo Pusha T: Yeah Rick Ross: Mira, Yo Papo Pusha T: Yo come out nigga, where you at man? Rick Ross: Over here yo Pusha T: All right, let's stop playing games niggas Rick Ross: I got that stuff man Pusha T: OK cool I want all that shit nigga Rick Ross: Yo, you can have everything if you want it man Pusha T: ? nigga, how much nigga? Rick Ross: 3 million B Pusha T: OK. You gotta give me a minute on that ? nigga Rick Ross: OK, no problema Pusha T: Yo put all that shit in the truck baby Woman: OK Daddy Rick Ross: Mira, Mira ... [Verse 1: Rick Ross] Teflon sicker than most, sick-nature flow I won't battle for the block rick spit for your coast I'm handling with narcs they let me sit on the coke Godfather in a dark shop mob niggas gettin' the vote Two-piece cufflinks killing the coat On my feet for the baking but I sit with a toast My women on the bitch naked or get dick in the boat Fresh food in the Benz and I'm deepin' the throat Top down ocean drive and I'm chiefin the drought Start ten top fuck 'em cuz I'm speaking the coast Second week out, damn creepin' on go We still deep in the hole, keep dicks pickin' on blow They escorted by the killers for that beef on the row They pretty cheap too get put to sleep at the show Back at the stage I'm conscious with an object in the back of the braze I master the trade, since back in the day Packin' the gauge, quit acting afraid It's a package exchange, for my niggas back in the classical days [Hook] Up in the block I'm still hustlin' ? fro the streets ?? Gettin' no answer it ain't nothin' man I wasn't on the go ?? strugglin' [Verse 2: Pusha T] Roll with the winners, the soul of the sinners We drain with ? the limmers My uncle's before me Mix the dizzle in the blenders Then crack came I seen the coldest of winters Mountains of snow, may fiend strimmer Minks to the flow we used to Crème de la crèmes Such a need to shimmer the Benz got the slippers Club owners love us call us yellow bottle grippers Flipper, no whale scale tipper I'm from the line ex-kingpins to turn sniffers Pray the lord forgive us while the maricons fill us Up to the brim call 'em the coffee bean spillers Blast from us he call keys gods pillows I re-write bury me in my chinchilla Ain't non iller no, ain't non realer It's Pusha, just your neighborhood dope dealer [Hook]