Rick Ross - This Me - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

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Tekst piosenki
[Intro:] It's no facade or no chapard Well acquainted with Audemars and all that shit It's Ricky Ross the rich boss [Verse 1:] Wet bars on the boat, what broad won't elope Crib like Scott Storch all from the coke Maybachs were a dream now it's all real It's hard to get sleep layin next to five mil Still got the chills, I call 'em the goosebumps Yeah Alexander vision I'm buildin like two Trumps Steppin guce bumps I'm the main event We got a pocket full of game brain it made me ten Six bitches' numbers all on the same napkin Now that's what the fuck I call a chain reaction You see it these niggas livin of the past I ran a hundred miles but I did it all with class Hands all glass wrist all glass Mirror on the wall, how long will the crystal last Champagne pours celebrate the cause Hover above the laws at the mercy of the Lord [Hook: 2x] This me nigga It's me nigga While we do our thang give me six feet nigga Better take a picture this is history nigga I'm busy gettin money you can miss me nigga [Verse 2:] Whats worse a testimony from you homey? Tables turn fast I told you not to fuck me, Tony Started with the dishes ending with the digits I had to cross friendship it's rules to the business All the time with a sister like Gina Beauty salon dream got the keys and the beamer On the way to cheetahs pointing an army Land my spaceship with the spoilers only Seen the UFOs, FBI, ATF, let ‘em know how a nigga ride Fo-fo and fo-five and six fo's Half a pill two dime six hoes I need a slice of the pie fo five six As I throw my dice in the sky Head crack nigga Bread stack nigga Convertible Bert yeah I let my hair back nigga [Hook: 2x] [Verse 3:] Lamborghinis and Maseratis for mediocres When the beats over back to the street, soldier Call cold shoulders mike make me bring the heats over When the beefs over might see the peach rover We eats but we try to reach each quota No soda Rolls roller one on her Rodeo eighty gram one coda Louis Vuitton bright sides don’t want ‘em They trippin I’m drippin in Tiffany stones Get a mop, Peter prop, I’m livin it homes Chauffeur I blow purp and no skirts Four chains I’m puttin down with more work [Hook: 2x]
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