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Correct Geechi Liberace Lyrics
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Artists: R
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Rick Ross
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Correct Geechi Liberace
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Lyrics:
Geechi Liberace, rings on every finger In the south with the AC set at 69 at all times I fell asleep with the Rollie on A young Michael Corleone Custom made suits and designer shoes Takes two hours to go through my shoes Ex slave, proud field nigga Next Trayvon Martin, Emmitt Till nigga My nappy hair, who say that life is fair My family mean the world although I'm never there These days nothing makes sense Sad, seeing all these G's on this fake shit Text a nigga phone, avoiding my calls Only thing you got is your word and your balls Get up on my level you say you a boss Everybody seen it we know that you're soft Heard you went and got a lawyer, you niggas is lost If they say I'm not the biggest? You tell them they false I'm out in Vegas and I'm tricking off Out in L.A. Freeway Ricky Ross Testified on over forty dudes I seen the documents, I'm who he wanna sue He testifies for a state allowance Then does a blog like your favorite coward Down to roll, I might enroll and graduate from Howard I love to roll and marinate just enjoy the sour Or another hooligan at U of M Bitches on the honor roll? I need me two of them When it comes to chicks I need a few of them Had a set of twins, now I got me two of them! Sit the marbles statues on the glass floors Glass slippers, no cracks for the Task Force Every mil I count? my Momma screaming "yes Lord!" Geeci ring on every finger at the chess board I fell asleep half naked I woke up to a sexy Jamaican Penthouse suite fifty ninth floor The other fifty eight were totally vacant True wealth, in seek of this true wealth True wealth, in seek of this true wealth I once made love to a princess For security reasons lets call her Empress I'm well groomed ready for the throne I learned that petty wars can take a toll Holy Ghost reading through the book of Job Overdose, pleading for my pot of gold Smoking dope, hoping that I don't explode Try to open up my mind, I got a hundred hoes Brain, all I want is the brain I'ma give my son the game, tell him "stay away from fame" I'm just tryna be a better boy Every year they say I'm selling more Look at the bitches that you settle for This the yacht club, leave them on the paddle board True G, Geechi Liberace In the three piece, suede black Versace We could take over the world We could take over the world Sit the marbles statues on the glass floors Glass slippers, no cracks for the Task Force Every mil I count? my Momma screaming yes Lord! Geechi ring on every finger at the chess board
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