Rick Ross - Keys To The Crib (feat. Styles P) | Текст песни

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• Rick Ross
• Keys To The Crib (feat. Styles P)

[Hook: Rick Ross]
I got them keys in the crib
You wouldn't find them if you had the keys to the crib
Them niggas cheesing, it's real
It ain't cheese if it's less than a mil'
I think I'm losing my religion
Praying on these niggas, wrap a kilo in a ribbon
Live every day like it's my last
My only trending topic is the cash

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I see no nigga in these clear Cazals
Bitch-ass nigga, better get some mail
I'm riding in a 6 like this bitch for sale
That boy Meek Mill squeeze clips for real
See me in the street, rose-gold everything
Moving like hoes got me plotting on your team
Learning your whereabouts, burners to air 'em out
Bitches a motion picture, I'm picturing Paramount
Riding in the Lotus, Teflon Don
With an ambitious bitch, lotus flower bomb
Wale on burn, young nigga's doing numbers
Double M G got it the next ten summers
I'm trying to do it big forever
Keys to the crib, and I'm with whatever
Keys to the crib, nigga, bricks wherever
Hundred mil' plus til we rich forever

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
I see no nigga in these red Cazals
All I see is women with these massive tails
All I see is young'uns with this trash to sell
They got some C.O.'s that get you hash in jail
Little dope, little coke, talking cash for real
Funeral's never cool, nigga, pass the steel
I'm a guru in the kitchen, whipping mass appeal
Boobie got a life sentence on his last appeal
That's one of few names that'll last for real
Got me drinking from the bottle, no glasses filled
Always purple in the cup, nigga, pass the pills
I'm the first one here to fuck, snatch your ass for real
Keys to the crib, boys, keys to the V
If you at the table, then you eat what I eat
Breathe what I breathe, drink what I drink
Smoke what I smoke and we still mink for mink

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Styles P]
Keys in the crib, you want keys to the crib
I got work from Argentina and Belize in the crib
Homie holding a nina, could sneeze him a brick
Knee-deep in the cocaine, trees in the six
Biggie on the stereo, seven-digit flips
The scenario: something go wrong, it's a burial
Hit the hood, watch it go around like a merry-go
White seats, new M5, all cherry though
Heard you at Aces, Courvoisier
Toasting the niggas that beat cases
Knowing your connect on a name-to-name basis
Eating with your fam on a day-to-day basis
Weight shit, get the big house and the spaceship
Team of loyal niggas
That'll fucking boil niggas for a chain or a bracelet
Nigga, you know I'm living fly
For the love of the game, I put a ribbon on the pie

[Hook]

[Outro: Rick Ross talking]
If I'm rich now, is it too much to pray to be rich forever?
Forgive me Lord! Forgive me
My next move: God Forgives, I Don't
I think you'll love it
Rich Forever!

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