A Miracle

Intro (Rick Ross) Trill Entertainment, nigga Where we keeps it trilla Webbie, Ricky Ross. Streets gonna love this one Verse 1: Webbie The little soldier With nothing Clear to see Wasn't nobody handing him shit Riding around town glamour and glisten You don't want my position I'm spitting facts, couldn't relax The whole time I had weights up on my back Be black, gone back I got pitchers on deck They gave it to us seven flat How many nigga's gonna rat Check my tats She left early then she supposed to, mayne It had to be fair Not me, the family and them, could pack the Madison Square I had a career I was supposed to be right back there with them I owed it to Him I know it I show it Don't want to blow it A poet For the streets Give me a beat I'mma roll it I surely didn't believe in magic But I knew I had it in Savage It got crucial I ain't panic And when y'all wanted I ran it I remember when my Granny Said anything was to happen From slangin, hustlin, to trapping To laying, praying, and jacking And blowing on Grandaddy and all of my kids happy Its a miracle It seem like I'm dreaming Somebody pinch me Am I supposed to be in the spot that I'm in? Is this really real? It's a miracle All these years Am I really here? Have I really lived what they call a miracle? Verse 2: Birdman How you shoot 50 clips Put it in the air Mean mug them niggas And have no fear Play the game with the stripes, Put it in his life Ten on the mic Nigga do it same night It's a miracle The way I bend them corners on em Get up early on em Get this money on em A miracle A lot I bought on Crib I paid on Things I've got on A miracle Fresh crush the diamond ice Place in one price Did it for one night A miracle I done lived the high life Shined in high lights Did it in gunfights A miracle Nigga it was hell we came in Money done come in Hell we went in A miracle, nigga No time for lying homie Time for crying homie Time for dying homie Chorus Verse 3: Rick Ross It's truly a miracle Your boy is still alive Cuz I was selling boy in '95 Riding with my boys Dealin dope, gettin high Crackers trying to give me time and we ain't talking five Niggas talk fly so that pistol by my side My baby mama fucking all my homies on the sly I see it all through the corner of a nigga's eye So I keep my shades on and my face up at the sky Pistols get the power Snitchin is for cowards I got plasmas in the shower And my bitch is snorting powder (I'm a G) My life a movie got rubber uzi's in my jacuzzi You'll think I'm Biggie I'm bumping Juicy with several groupies I got beamerz and benzes, bitch They all on deuces I got the product And when you drop it, it never loses Pray or get preyed on Killers get prayed for If this a dream I pray I never wake up Chorus