Rick RossLove Sosa

[Intro:] We’ll never stop, n***a Never… I’m hittin’ that hundred-mil mark on these n****s In the next two years, n***a Yeah, nigga… [Verse 1: Rick Ross] I say, I’m ridin’ on Forges – call them my skaters You know them bodies is sticky, you can’t get caught up in capers N****s are tricky, you can’t be askin’ for favors 2-2-3 go to lickin’, and make your b***h go into labor N****s hate when you winnin’, you wanna kill ‘em, I feel ya Took the top off the car, b***h, I know my face look familiar Fuckin’ with my lil’ gangters, we makin’ a killin’ When you count your first million you never forget the feelin’ That when my eyes go to twitchin’, palms start to itchin’ N****s be snitchin’, that’s when my dogs start trippin’ Black belly, I bought a b***h, you know my pockets fat More money to gain, Double-M on my chain I just redid the deal, another 20 and change I step where I please, broke n***a freeze Cartier bracelet, them Swisher Sweets in my jeans [Hook: Chief Keef] These b*****s love Sosa O End or no end Fuckin’ with them O Boys You gon’ get f****d over ‘Rari’s & Rovers These hoes love Chief Sosa Hit him with that cobra Now that boy slumped over They do it all for Sosa You boys ain’t makin’ no noise Y’all know I’m a grown boy Your clique full of broke boys God y’all some broke boys God y’all some broke boys We gbe dope boys We got lots of dough, boy [Verse 2: Stalley] Still in all gold just like Mr. T Rollin’ up that Swisher Sweet, Box Chevy with Diamond seats Ridin’ to this Diamond D, Diamonds in my pinky ring Middle finger to you hatin’ n****s That hate to see a n***a do his thing But I’m doin’ me, a million last year, Even after doin’ that Music Manage tour for free Now all I hear is “this year is me” And I told Ross if it ain’t, I’mma clique on and run down on you rappers And your weak rhymes I lost struggle because I kept grindin’ Man, speak honest – these weak n****s can’t compete I’mma be honest, I’m being modest, Freshest n***a, come check the closets World tour and them checks deposit, New whips with no mileage New cribs by Cold Harbor Bury money in my back yard While you n****s goin’ back and forth [Hook:]
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