Rick Ross Produced By: Cool & Dre FacebookTwitter Embed Follow [Intro: Rick Ross] Ricky Ross Carol City Cartel Cool & Dre
[Hook: Rick Ross & Dre] Designer jeans and a hand full of dough (Yeah) Bottle of that Rose, pass me some mo' I got, mo' cars, mo' cars, mo' clothes, mo' clothes Mo' money means more dough to blow (Bloooowwww) Mo' bottles, there's more dough to blow (Bloooowwww) Rick Ross got a lot of dough to blow
[Verse 1: Rick Ross] Way up in them Cali Hills, burnin' like the sunset A nigga wit' a attitude, take it outta' context Ridin' with that big thang, lookin' like a bomb threat Bin Laden beard, Afghan in a bomb vest Ross, stranded on death row Makavali's on the Maybach, kicks retro She wanna gaze at the stars Pull a panoramic view, Pull the haze out the jar Rick Ross, I'm the best in the flesh Gettin' blessed on a jet is a way to reflect Hard work pays off, I'm a boss, you can tell By the bottles in the pail, and the models that we share I'm into real estate, in a realer state of mind We came for trigga' play, kill a nigga for a dime I'm tryna' chill today, I got a million on my mind Dice in my hand, one roll, I blow ya mind
[Hook:]
[Verse 2: Rick Ross] Mo' trips, mo' whips, mo' money, I'm mo' rich Mo' haters, mo' clips, mo' jewels, mo' shit Half a hundred grand in some rubberbands Gats all flashed in my other hand On the other hand, I'm still pitching underhand All softballs, all bases covered man Mo' trucks, mo' bucks, mo' freaks, mo' butts I see the vision, from Club Vision to Privé I get brain, I bust nuts, in each states Soon as I see what I'm lookin' for I sit up in that seat and cut em' off on them 24's There it goes, baby girl come talk wit' tha' boss I pop a rose bottles, you can kick ya shoes off
[Hook:]
[Verse 3: Rick Ross] Ever seen a fat boy in a big body Know you wanna see about me, all you do is think bout it Lease apartments to get kicked out it Next day, buy a condo to get a kick out it Mill ticket for the view, this is what I do When I'm on the beach, all my diamonds salt water blue So let's party like the pack jam, Pacman Fifty grand, stacked in my lap man Get a lap dance, and if you get my dick hard This ya last chance, to up up on that big car Wit' tha Fat Man, certified Hood Star But he a millionaire, look bitch you going far This the movement, a few niggas' you wanna move wit' Gucci on my feet, see I'm only in the new shit Ha, they say life's a bitch But close ya eyes for a minute, and just bite this dick, it's Ross