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Rick Ross - Usual Suspects feat. Nas & Kevin Cossom | Текст песни

[Intro/Outro: Rick Ross]
Maybach music
It's deeper than the verse, baby
It's deeper than the rap

[Hook: Kevin Cossom]
Doing a 150 miles and running
Get up in my way, then you know that I'm gunning
Laugh about the dough but really ain't nothing funny
Getting rich in a rush, yeah you know us
We're the usual suspects, the real definition of success
Blowing money cause I can and I love it
From nothing to something
You know us, we're the usual suspects
You know the boys on the block trying to take us in
Because we bringing all of that paper in
From nothing to something
You know us, we're the usual suspects

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
17, time to man up
Feed the fam boy, I put that on these canned goods
All I got was Diabetes and a damn ug
People talking down, calling me a damn scrub
Young niggas, all you want to do is roam free
On your own feet, got to cook your own beef
I'm too cool for lame dudes that ridicule
I laugh while I'm doing laps in the swimming pool
I don't owe you niggas nothing
Throw me two fingers when you see a nigga stuntin'
Black Philip Drummond, limousines are the Hummer
Penthouse suite, pretty beach, I call her Summer
Lot of homies passed, see them in the future
Running so fast, on the gas, never neutral
Got to keep a shooter while I'm riding in the 7
Higher than a kite by the time I get to heaven


[Verse 2: Nas]
And still my talent is yet to be challenged
Had no jet with my own pilot
No blasting off with Flex or DJ Khaled
My mom stressing college
But my crude sense of logic did allude to my empty wallet
Try spitting on a green tinted Accord
Which could mean a sentence up North, where the homie was
But back then dough was like a whore that Goldie love, it didn't exist
And Officer Foldy Cuffs was after my wrists
Was not Beverly Hills where we chilled
Imagine this, the Nazareth had to get from rags to rich
I used to stand on rooftops with two Glocks
Figuring, how do I turn my Timberlands to Crocs?
Now reptiles was left out, I'm 'bout a watch, what is you thinking?
Murk you, plus the muscle that u bringing is nothing to me
If you thugging or fake and shanked on Cuban, shout out my Ricans
Dealt with all of you gangstas, to the roughest Jamiacans and Haitians


[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
If you follow physics, nigga, money never float
Meaning: every day I'm living try to stay afloat
Coming from a boss, I can predict a double cross
Handlers managing money they'll never come across
Aspen to Africa, magnamers numbers involved
AK47s singing winter, by summer you fall
I dealt with broads and those willing to sell they soul
Over cars and clothes, man I'm talking petty hoes
As my fetti grow, fuck her, feed her Spaghetti-Os
I'm club hopping in Cali, shout out to Harry-O
Somebody dim the lights, triple black tux
Keyser Söze in the flesh, it's time to catch up
I run with niggas who destined to get a life sentence
Get they baby mama a Lexus for them nice visits
My nigga got a dub and love to do the push ups
I got a million cash, tryna get the kush up

[Hook x2]

[Intro/Outro: Rick Ross]

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