[Verse 1: Scarface] I live just enough for the city so I get by Money never changed how I felt, would I risk my Life for a dollar, homie? Nah, I don't think so Greed breeds jealous niggas out here wanting info's Catch a nigga slipping, put a bullet in his temple Homie, it's the same rules, money talks, simple. My kinfolk Call it what I'm living like the high life Only if he knew what I had to do to keep my mind right I tell you I got 20/20 hindsight See it in the distance, hieroglyphics keep the rhymes tight My mind like, Game recognize that Real recognize real, still .45 strapped Underneath the white tee, Zimmerman get shot down Hero, it ain't nothing but a sandwich, call the cops now Fuck the police, stop running White boys terrorize nigga' neighborhoods, gunning Down the innocent, in the beginning it's: "You was doing 50 in the 35" The ending is: "You fit the description of the subject in this incident We gon' have to take you downtown for some questioning'" Damn, a blessing in disguise if you ask me I was just about to hit the highway with my last key Could it be that maybe God is intervened With my life like he did so many times in between? A half a block away from the crime scene A minute earlier and that was me, think I've been knowing Ross since he was Teflon Same nigga now it was back then, nothing stepped on Dopeman, dopeman yelling Cook it 'til it's rock hard, bag it up, sell it Aroma so loud, so loud that you can smell it Death to them niggas getting caught go and telling
[Hook: Z-Ro] Every time I turn around, y'all got something to say about me But y'all don't know a damn thing about me Just what you see, that's what you judge me on Every time I turn around the guilty be pointing fingers at me Homie, I'm just trying to be all I can be But not for free, that's what the fuck be wrong I need that
[Interlude: Rick Ross] Can't even believe this day here, my nigga I remember us sitting in the parking lot talking about getting money
[Verse 2: Rick Ross] Cracks in the wall, standing in the puddle Sunny south Florida, a cold motherfucker Ready for a war, barely wanna talk Ballys on, my nigga, as they walking back and forth Makes you wanna hustle, take care of my brothers Raymond passed away, here's something for his mother It never is enough, trying to show her that I love him We were fishing buddies, breed the dog, split the puppies Pictures on the wall, bitches we done raw Niggas getting robbed, the only shit that we can solve We all wanna get it, ball for a minute Accept collect calls, tell our dawgs that we did it Plenty money orders, that what uncle Kenny taught us Keep your face clean when you're out here bending corners Always keep in mind, you fall in love a thousand times Regardless what we went through, I'm still right here by your side Artificial homies, worse than the agents When you parking all your cars, they wanna know the payments Rose petals dripping on the casket Baby boy done grew into a bastard On that lean, you know I fuck her fantastic Work white as Rita Ora in that plastic Took shots, shed tears, that's war Bust bottles on yachts, stand tall Catch a case, don't talk, that's raw Scarface, Rick Ross: big boys Big boys, Scarface, Rozay, we big boys