Ross’ Lyrics
[above1]
Credit: Chris McKay/Getty Images
I fell in love with the pen, started f**king the ink
The hustle’s an art, I painted what I would think
Still allergic to broke, prescription straight to the paper
Destined for greatness, but got a place in Jamaica
Villa on the water with the wonderful views
Only fat ni**a in the sauna with Jews
Went and got a yacht, I’m talkin’ Carnival cruise
And these ni**as talking like hoes, they mad they not in my shoes
It’s the red bottom boss, came to buy the bar
Every bi-week, s**t, I’m bound to buy a car
Murder-cedes Benz or that bubble double R
Headlights flicking, looking like a falling star
Everyday them hammers bang, whipping yay like Anna Mae
I run the game but the ladies think I’m running game
Mink coats make your woman wanna fornicate
Rozay and Drake, I’m getting cake, nothing short of great
[ad2]
