Correction Paroles Where My Money (I Need That) par Rick Ross

Retour

Paroles

Where my money? I need, I need, I need cash
Nigga where my money? I need, I need, I need cash
Where, where, where, where my money? I need, I need, I need cash
Nigga where, where my money? I need, I need, I need cash
Where, where, where, where my money? You don't wanna be the one I blast (Ross)
Where, where, where my money? You don't wanna be the one I blast (Ross)
Where, where, where my money? You don't wanna be the one I blast (Ross)
Where my money? You don't wanna be the one I blast (Ross)

Never try me like a thug
If you do you better duck
I'mma hit him in his body, somebody patchin' him up
I'mma bust a nigga head somebody wrappin' him up
When I ask you for my shit nigga am I askin' too much?
Ridin' dirty in my seven deuce
Its dirty you can tell the truth
I'm dirtier than a reverend fightin' Internal Revenue
I'mma get mine you can call me uncle Sam
Use you for your services than I don't give a damn
Slap Bush with my cash, all these taxes and his gas
Got these bitches sellin' ass, homicide for the cash
Homicide for the cash ride around gunnin' mass
Summer time Son of Sam Triple C's gon' gun you down
Twenty birds I'mma serve posted up on this curb
Got a lot of pistol game so we at ya everyday
If you owe me a dime boy you better give me mine
Cause I'm pullin' my nine with one thing that's on my mind

Still waitin' on the call homie post to be my dawg
It done been more than a week he caught himself runnin' off
Yeah he bought two, but I fronted another three
But I'mma get him marked off for no less than a quarter key
Yeah I broke him off now I gotta break him off
He think he usin' his head I gotta take it off
That boy losin' his head then I'm takin' off
Mashin' in the grand national won't break it off
Let me break it down
I see Fifty off a chicken every time I break it down (down)
Bad little bitches shakin' it when they break it down (down)
Let me break it down I broke it down to the smallest slab
Cause I'm so fat got the fiends callin' cabs
I'm out here for my stacks
I'm out here for my stacks
From the side of the bridge
You gotta cross the tracks
Dade county D-boys at your front door (Ross)
Three in the mornin' and you know why they knockin' for (Ross)

I'm like a professor, I weigh and I measure
Triple beam on the dresser, couldn't be fresher
Cookin' is my pleasure cookies is my treasure
Hustle couldn't be better muscle you couldn't measure
Nigga's feelin' the pressure pressure they bust pipes
I'm cool wit your bitch your bitch fuck nice, see I need that
Fly hoes on my team, see I need that, my hoes will gimmie anythin'
Grindin' back in Savannah, climbin' back through Atlanta
Shoot through Macon, see what’s shakin', my shit white as miss vanna
It's Rick Ross Rolls-Royce when I floss
I'mma big boss and I never took a loss, see I need that
I might of took a loss but it wasn't like that (Ross)
So I'm back on my grizzle, got the streets on sizzle
It's Ricky Rizzle the rich nizzle, the rich nizzle, now bitch

clip

Ton pseudo sera publié. Laisses les champs vide pour rester anonyme.