by Rick Ross (feat. Birdman)
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I’mma tell you like this, nigga!
I got a hundred Gs on my line
I ain’t eating Jacksons when I be in Overtown
Bitch I’m eatin’ lavish, look up hoe, It’s snowing now
I just throw the cabbage, C-M-B gon’ hold me down
Got an odor in the attic, that’s a couple pounds
New Rolex that I ordered, that’s a hundred thou’
Time to milk the game, bitch, I went and bought a cow
My nigga GDK a goon, he’ll gun you down
Slid up on em with the stick, yeah, I sat him down
My nigga Nut so slick, they ain’t pat him down
I got a hundred niggas on my line
A hundred squares at a time
Nigga, hold it down
[Hook: Rick Ross]
I’m addicted to money
I’m addicted to chips
My hoe was gay
Now she addicted to dick (bitch!)
Addicted to this
Addicted to that
I’m gettin’ them stacks
It’s more addictive than crack!
I’m addicted to money
I’m addicted to chips
My hoe was gay
Now she addicted to dick (bitch!)
Addicted to this
Addicted to that
I’m gettin’ them stacks
It’s more addictive than crack!
[Verse 2: Birdman]
Give the homie 10.5, want 75 a hit
Whole thing straight raw, hundred Gs a brick
Hustling for a urge, moving them birds
Strapped in the cut, got em’ posted on the curb
That H! We floodin’ other states
That fishtail bake well, chop it in the plate
Them V12s move swell with the paper plates
The homie fully loaded, so we strapped with a case
Give you 10 squares for 750, nigga
No talking homie drop it, then go get it
On the island, nigga, fresh with a 450
Louis Vuitton’d down, nigga, strapped
Money how we livin’
[Hook: Rick Ross]
[Verse 3: Birdman]
See them fresh, ow… boss of the South, nigga
Boss out my mouth, nigga, boss, big house
Yeah… so we do it, no drought
No cost on your life when you’re playing with the stripes
Five mics, fiver-timer OG Blood
Straight soldier, nigga, Third World G blood
Uptown nigga maxed out the work plug
Benz 5 switching lanes with them white dubs
[Verse 4: Rick Ross]
Or them white fours, I’m ducking them white folks
Yeah, my pockets fat, I don’t fuck with no lipo
I keep that chopper with me, I call it my Geico
Trigger hair pin, drop it and it might blow
I get them grenades, we call ‘em Bye-Byes
It hit your Escalade, pussy nigga, bye-bye
Pussy nigga, bye-bye…
Two-hundred on the dash, nigga, bye-bye…
[Hook: Rick Ross]
