Lyrics Heavyweight - Rick Ross feat. Slab
Look
at
nigga
Rozay,
look
at
him
Out
there
with
that
CrossFit
shit
Nigga
think
he
a
boxer,
workin′
out
and
shit
Nigga
done
bought
Holyfield
crib,
nigga
Five
hundred
acres,
a
thousand
rooms,
nigga
This
nigga
think
he
the
champ
Holyfield
must
have
left
a
belt
in
that
bitch
for
him
Ya
dig?
I
been
touchin'
that
set,
I
made
my
way
to
a
key
I′m
so
in
love
with
the
trap,
I
bought
a
house
'cross
the
street
Quarter
key
got
me
livin'
like
I′m
Don
King
Heavyweight,
I′m
in
the
ring
nigga,
ding
ding
Nigga,
ding
ding
Nigga,
ding
ding
Don't
make
me
hit
you
′cross
your
head,
nigga,
ding
ding
Runnin'
off
with
all
your
things,
ding
ding
License
been
suspended,
ridin′
with
the
yay
I
shit
where
I
eat,
I
trap
where
I
stay
Smokin',
bottle
poppin′,
Belaire
Rose
And
I
don't
give
a
fuck
what
pussy
niggas
say
Michelangelo
of
this
trap
game
Traded
fifteen
pounds
of
mid
for
a
half
a
thing
We
mix
that
eighteen,
now
it's
thirty-six
Turned
that
midget
to
a
brick,
that′s
a
pretty
flip
Shout
out
Mally
Mall,
I
got
a
few
bitches
I
don′t
get
my
dick
sucked,
unless
it's
two
bitches
My
trap
Mike
Tyson,
nigga,
heavyweight
I′m
sleepin'
in
the
trap,
we
open
every
day
I′m
parkin'
on
my
block,
I′m
beatin'
on
my
street
Twelve
all
in
my
ass,
they
locked
my
[?]
last
week
These
niggas
know
they
pussy,
talkin'
bout
they
robbin′
Talkin′
bout
they
eatin',
these
niggas
out
here
starvin′
I
been
touchin'
that
set,
I
made
my
way
to
a
key
I′m
so
in
love
with
the
trap,
I
bought
a
house
'cross
the
street
Quarter
key
got
me
livin′
like
I'm
Don
King
Heavyweight,
I'm
in
the
ring
nigga,
ding
ding
Nigga,
ding
ding
Nigga,
ding
ding
Don′t
make
me
hit
you
′cross
your
head,
nigga,
ding
ding
Runnin'
off
with
all
your
things,
ding
ding
Diamonds
on
my
pinky,
women
on
my
dizzle
Bulletproof
the
Lincoln,
there
go
Ricky
Rizzle
I′m
the
Thrilla
in
Manila,
Belaire,
my
Ciroc
vanilla
My
cousin
certified
killer
When
he
died,
I
know
I
cried
a
river
You
come
and
go,
that
came
down
from
the
Lord
Every
night
I
hit
Rose
case
like
a
fuckin'
voice
Hallelujah,
momma
screamin′
"Hallelujah"
Pray
for
your
son
cause
momma,
you
had
you
a
shooter
For
this
cocaine,
they
standin'
in
this
cold
rain
In
pneumonia
weather
tryna
move
that
whole
thing
Heat
game,
season
tickets,
that′s
for
my
whole
team
'88
Mike
Tyson,
that's
with
the
gold
teeth
Heavyweight,
Don
King,
Robin
Givens,
big
dreams
I
been
touchin′
that
set,
I
made
my
way
to
a
key
I′m
so
in
love
with
the
trap,
I
bought
a
house
'cross
the
street
Quarter
key
got
me
livin′
like
I'm
Don
King
Heavyweight,
I′m
in
the
ring
nigga,
ding
ding
Nigga,
ding
ding
Nigga,
ding
ding
Don't
make
me
hit
you
′cross
your
head,
nigga,
ding
ding
Runnin'
off
with
all
your
things,
ding
ding
1 Intro
2 Hood Billionaire
3 Coke Like the 80's
4 Heavyweight
5 Neighborhood Drug Dealer
6 Phone Tap
7 Trap Luv
8 Elvis Presley Blvd.
9 Movin' Bass
10 If They Knew
11 Quintessential
12 Keep Doin' That (Rich Bitch)
13 Nickel Rock
14 Burn
15 Family Ties
16 Brimstone
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