Three Kings - Rick Ross
Yeah, classic hip hop shit Dr. D-R-E Rozay and Jay, let's get 'em We started out moppin' floors And now we front row at the awards Number one for the last twenty years If you real mothafucka scream cheers! (cheers, cheers) Mothafucka scream cheers! (cheers, cheers) Yeah and it is what it is He wanted to shine at the swap meet Til the white boys got him in that hot seat I only love it when her hair long You should listen to this beat through my headphones Money long, number one twenty years strong Fuck a gym, I am him, Andre Young G5's to 6-4s, Dre got 'em If the bitch bad I got her in red bottoms Great weed, nice homes, bread proper Tec nine, one chamber, top shotta Bentley coupe, new yacht, my helicopter Born broke, real nigga straight out of Compton The fuck you magazine niggas want from me? I rewrote the game, nigga, now talk money All black on my Al Capone shit I built a house, nigga get your own shit I only love it when her hair long You should listen to this beat through my headphones See y'all niggas Hit the switches on that shit one time, huh Let the top down I came a long way from the weed game Twenty stack seats at the Heat game And I'm still strapped with the heat man And we steppin' on a nigga feet man 80 pair of sneakers came from the D game Cousin was a Crip, said it was a C thing Brown bag money in a duffle bag Fuck 'em all, wet 'em and we gotta double back The homie whippin' chickens in his momma kitchen On the mission, said he get it for his son tuition Real nigga's dreams comin' to fruition Stumble, but I never fall, leanin' on my pistol I only love her when the ass fat We should listen to this track in my Maybach I'm just tryin' to be a billionaire Come and suck a dick for a millionaire Uh, it's just different I know it feels different Uh, I only love her if her eyes brown Play this shit while you play around with my crown King H-O, y'all should know by now But if you don't know, uh Millions on the wall in all my rooms Niggas couldn't fuck with my daughter's room Niggas couldn't walk in my daughter's socks Banksy bitches, Basquiat I ran through that buck fifty Live Nation fronted me They workin' on another deal, they talkin' two hundred fifty I'm holdin' out for three Two seventy five and I just might agree Ex-D-boy, used to park my beamer Now look at me, I can park in my own arena I only love her if her weave new I'm still a hood nigga, what you want me to do? Been hoppin' out the BM with your BM Taking her places that you can't go with your per diem Screamin' carpe diem until I'm a dead poet Robin Williams shit, I deserve a golden globe bitch! I take a Ace in the meanwhile You ain't gotta keep this Khaled, it's just a freestyle Fuck rap money, I've made more off crates Fuck show money, I spent that on drapes Close the curtains, fuck boy, out my face I whip the coke, let the lawyer beat the case Murder was the case that they gave me I killed the Hermes store, somebody save me Stuntin' to the max like wavy Oh shit! Oh, stuntin' to the max, I'm so wavy Used to shop at TJ Maxx back in '83 I don't even know if it was open then I ain't know Oprah then Have the XL 80 bike Loud motor, they be like, "Damn!" when I'm comin' through, rang Had the grill in '88, y'all niggas is late You got all that, right? I love this shit like my own daughter Let's spray these niggas, baby, just like daddy taught ya Young, this is just different
Artist: Rick Ross
Title: Three Kings