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Rick Ross

911

 

911

(álbum: God Forgives, I Don't - 2012)


God forgives, I don't
In other words, retaliation is a must!
Boom boom boom boom!

I bow my head, I pray to God
Survival of the fittest: help me hold my chopper Lord
If I die today, on the highway to heaven
Can I let my top down in my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
Financial fanatic, 40 bricks in my attic
400K in my baggage, 80-round automatic
You can't stop a bullet, this one for the money
Secret indictments, Porsche costs me 200

Fuck all these broke niggas cause all I do is ball
Ain't no more off days, my crib look like a mall
Fired the stylist, went and bought a big and tall
Niggas still scheming, but we sliding on 'em all
I remember picking watermelons
Now the Porsche cost me a quarter million
If I die tonight I know I'm coming back nigga
Reincarnated: big black fat nigga

I bow my head, I pray to God
Survival of the fittest: help me hold my chopper Lord
If I die today, on the highway to heaven
Can I let my top down in my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
Financial fanatic, 40 bricks in my attic
400K in my baggage, 80-round automatic
You can't stop a bullet, this one for the money
Secret indictments, Porsche costs me 200

Fuck your investigation, study my elevation
Cherry-red 9-11, straight to my destination
Mayweather got a fight, make me some reservations
Knew I flew private nigga, strapped with no hesitations
Gucci Pucci money long, he got 20 cars
Graduated from them blocks, now it's stocks and bonds
Hoes wanna know, hoes wanna show
They know a nigga's name, they know a nigga's strong, fuck with me

I bow my head, I pray to God
Survival of the fittest: help me hold my chopper Lord
If I die today, on the highway to heaven
Can I let my top down in my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
Financial fanatic, 40 bricks in my attic
400K in my baggage, 80-round automatic
You can't stop a bullet, this one for the money
Secret indictments, Porsche costs me 200

Fuck your insinuation, work come from Venezuela
Love me some skinny bitches, fat boy just 'bout his paper
Hustle while niggas gossip, hating, that switch the topic
Jump in my 9-11, 2 bricks in my compartment
She let me smell her pussy
I know you smell the money
Still smell the gunpowder
9-11: hundred miles and running

I bow my head, I pray to God
Survival of the fittest: help me hold my chopper Lord
If I die today, on the highway to heaven
Can I let my top down in my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?

I bow my head, I pray to God
Survival of the fittest: help me hold my chopper Lord
If I die today, on the highway to heaven
Can I let my top down in my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?
In my 9-11?

feito

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