Lyrics R.I.C.O. - Waka Flocka Flame

Y'all hooting and hollerin' about who's hotter
Got 28 sales next month man
Just closed two deal on my Email and my iPad
30, 000 feet in the air I'm like that
Back in this bitch, yeah I'm back in this bitch
If that bitch get to spazzing, I'm axing that bitch
And I'm asking you rappers,
do you ask your bitch for permission to sit down and piss? (Pussy!)
I'm actually rapping 'bout factual shit
Couple hundred on chains put that on my bling
I'm a savage, I'm blessed and they asking you shit
And you do too much, niggas get slapped like a bitch
I make in a week what you make in a year
Eight figure, nigga, so let that be clear
I captain you niggas, please let me steer
For hope for your niggas, and that shit is weird
Yeah, you got a single - your swagger so boring
I swear I feel like imma never stop touring
They claiming it's time to bring races together
They come to my shows, get wasted together
Party together
Smoke one together
I'm changing the world, y'all hope for the better
My business I handle
You rappers just rebel
They tell me "Come back", but the game is in shambles
And it's just a shame, they come in my lane
They want that old Flocka, that Hard in the Paint
They feel so authentic, you artists is lame
Face, car, I got credit charged into the game
I matched in the gas and I mastered my craft
School of hard knocks, got my Masters in math
I count them like Scooter, then go see my jeweler
Oh y'all some OGs, I'm original shooter
They screaming "Free Gucci!" and yelling out "Squaad!"
Like y'all niggas knew us, man y'all niggas frauds
I sell to Atlantic, but don't need a deal
Please do not panic, return of the real
(Flocka!)
My niggas got hit with the R.I.C.O.(why?)
We come in the prison with choppers like I'm freeing Chapo?
My niggas got hit with the R.I.C.O. (you know)
Flockaveli a classic, so please stay tuned for the sequel
They tweeting and talking and dissing and blogging
Try me in July, you be missing by August
My chick is a boss, my clique full of bosses
You soft as that pillow you talking... on, gone
Fu-Fuck fu-fuck it I'm back
Put your hands up front, to the back
Swiss blade to your jawline
It's our time
Imma count down from 10, draw 9s
Fuck the confederate fags
Looking racist in his face and ass
Why you hate me cause I'm black?
The police arrest us, blast us, trap us, athletes, rappers, actors
Put a picture up and act like a pastor, please
Shhhh-shit!
Man, I should be touching the people
Still hustle like hustle is legal (squad, squad)
Boy, I'm feeling like I'm Bugsy Siegel
Loordd, deliver me from evil (please)
Loordd, who the fuck are these people?
This is a chapter, a verse and a testament
Post for the reference, I think it's evident
If police start asking, y'all giving up evidence
I free all my niggas, soon as I'm President
And fuck Donald Trump, man
I'm sending you straight to Mexico to live in, motherfucker
I'm out, man, Flockaveli 2 coming soon I swear
A lot of rappers slain
My young niggas asking "Can I snatch his chain?"
Look down, said "I though the same thing" (ya dig!)
Flockaveli 2, middle finger fame
(I'm with the shit!)
Made a million dollars off of rapping
Made a million dollars off of trapping
Made another quarter million off of capping
Flockaveli 2