Lyrics Boss - Rick Ross
Run
how
you
want,
boss
Chill
how
you
want,
boss
Floss
how
you
want,
boss
Do
whatcha
like
Go
rock
your
chain,
boss
Pour
that
champagne,
boss
Keep
gettin'
paid,
boss
Do
whatcha
like
As
I'm
poppin'
my
collar,
black
on
black
antique
Impala
She
ain't
gotta
speak
'cause
my
speakers
let
her
know
That
I'm
ballin'
They
call
me
the
Boss,
I
be
callin'
the
shots
It's
Ricky
Ross,
that
boy
be
ballin'
a
lot
That
boy
be
ridin'
big,
that
boy
be
ridin'
rims
Not
the
flats
but
the
fish
'cause
they
just
swim
New
York
to
the
West,
you
a
boss
if
you
fresh
Scuff
your
shoes,
wipe
'em
down
Now
get
back
on
your
two
step
Stuntin'
is
boss,
shinin'
is
boss
Grandaddy
kush
or
the
purp,
yellow
diamonds
is
boss
That
dime
a
boss,
she
fine
as
a
house
And
she
drivin'
a
Porche,
she
designed
for
a
boss
Run
how
you
want,
boss
Chill
how
you
want,
boss
Floss
how
you
want,
boss
Do
whatcha
like
Go
rock
your
chain,
boss
Pour
that
champagne,
boss
Keep
gettin'
paid,
boss
Do
whatcha
like
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la
Do
whatcha
like
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la
Do
whatcha
like
I'm
ridin'
big,
I'm
hoppin'
lanes
My
Chevy
thang
got
these
chickens
all
insane
Look
at
my
stones
tap
dancin'
on
the
bezzle
Bad
baby
at
the
Rollie,
lap
dancin'
and
wanna
kiss
me
Oh,
no,
'cause
of
my
chain
'Cause
of
my
bling
like
a
peacock
standin'
on
my
ring
'Cause
I'm
a
boss,
I'm
a
spend
it,
I'm
a
floss
I'm
a
winner,
you
the
loss,
all
these
niggas
Sprinkle
salt
'cause
I'm
the
pepper
in
the
sauce
Whatcha
feel,
whatcha
like,
whatcha
want,
what's
your
type?
I
done
seen
it,
done
it
twice,
bought
it
up
the
same
night
'Cause
I'm
a
boss,
it's
Ricky
Ross
If
you
buy,
if
you
spend
it,
fuck
the
cost
You's
a
boss,
you
a
boss
Run
how
you
want,
boss
Chill
how
you
want,
boss
Floss
how
you
want,
boss
Do
whatcha
like
Go
rock
your
chain,
boss
Pour
that
champagne,
boss
Keep
gettin'
paid,
boss
Do
whatcha
like
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la
Do
whatcha
like
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la
Do
whatcha
like
Before
the
rock
got
whipped
and
they
pistol
got
gripped
Before
you
got
any
chips,
you
got
permission
from
the
boss
On
a
mission
for
the
charts,
out-smart
my
competition
Composition
so
sharp,
so
dark,
so
vivid
26's
on
the
old
school,
Pro
Tools
session
Got
the
old
school
hoes
actin'
brand
new
sweatin'
Brand
new
tennis
chain,
fancy
pockets
on
my
jeans
Headed
for
the
walk,
dude,
'fore
they
win
him
on
the
stage
Two
a
day,
super
pay,
stupid
brain
from
a
model
Triple
C,
a
hundred
deep
and
everybody
got
a
bottle
Got
a
bottle
full
of
purp,
full
of
work,
no
leachin'
Blew
50
last
weekend,
if
you
lookin'
for
a
reason
I'm
the
boss
Run
how
you
want,
boss
Chill
how
you
want,
boss
Floss
how
you
want,
boss
Do
whatcha
like
Go
rock
your
chain,
boss
Pour
that
champagne,
boss
Keep
gettin'
paid,
boss
Do
whatcha
like
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la
Do
whatcha
like
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la,
Ross,
la
la
Do
whatcha
like
That's
all
Ross,
them
boys
runnin'
in
the
streets
See
them
candy
paints,
Dade
County
Over
town,
livin'
these
city
brown
Carol
City,
Oba
Locka
The
whole
thrill
five
of
my
yayo,
I
see
ya'll,
Ross
Do
whatcha
like
1 Cross That Line
2 Blow
3 Push It
4 It Ain't a Problem
5 Get Away
6 I'm a G
7 It's My Time
8 Boss
9 Hit U From the Back
10 Intro
11 I'm Bad
12 For Da Low
13 White House
14 Pots and Pans
15 Prayer
16 Street Life
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