paroles de chanson Mafia Music - Rick Ross
Yeah,
I
got
a
feelin'
nigga,
really
that
my
money
be
the
root
Look
up
at
the
stars
she
like,
honey
where
the
roof?
Pull
up,
hear
the
dogs,
canaries,
they
go
on
roof
Even
once
had
a
job
pourin'
tar
up
on
the
roof
That
boy
had
it
hard,
no
facade,
it's
the
truth
So
now
when
I
menage
and
get
massaged
it's
the
proof
Proof's
in
the
pudding
and
that
baking
soda
cakin'
Paper
that
I'm
makin'
got
her
takin'
photos
naked
Listenin'
to
niggas
like
whistlin'
at
Wendy
Williams
I
flip
my
middle
finger,
I'm
chillin'
on
twenty
million
The
rumors
turn
me
on,
I'm
masturbatin'
at
the
top
These
hoes
so
excited,
so
they
catchin'
every
drop
I'm
dodgin'
debacles
like
potholes
in
Jamaica
We
cut
down
the
weed,
bury
the
paper
on
them
acres
Martin
had
a
dream,
Bob
got
high
I
still
do
both
but
somehow
I
got
by
Creflo
prayed,
Mike
Vick
paid
Bobby
Brown
straight,
Whitney
lost
weight
Kimbo
Slice
on
da
pad
when
I
write
That
Mayweather
money
lookin'
funny
in
the
light
But
who
really
cares?
We
just
throw
it
in
the
air
Celebratin'
wealth
pourin'
Moet
in
her
hair
Excuse
me,
her
weave,
the
bluest
of
weed
Trunk
full
of
white,
car
smell
like
blue
cheese
That
boy
get
salad,
beef
bowel
movements
BMWs
on
them
big
thangs
lookin'
foolish
Shawty
sittin'
low
big
thangs
poppin'
Tip
on
the
Glock
from
a
Crip
up
in
Compton
Shootin'
at
the
cops,
fuck
one-time
I
gave
her
to
the
block,
I
fucked
one
time
We
Boyz
N
the
Hood,
and
nigga,
you
lil'
Tre
Suppress
ya
appetite,
we
takin'
ya
lil'
tray
Love
my
handgun,
but
my
choppa
still
the
shit
Banned
in
1994,
but
I'm
"2
Legit
2 Quit"
1996,
kilos
was
the
shit
But
that
was
better
than
roofin',
that
shit
be
bad
for
ya
skin
Niggas
was
ruthless,
Lord
knows
that
I
sinned
But
I
thought
about
my
future
and
the
loops
I
could
pin
Walked
out
on
the
gig
and
I
turned
to
the
streets
Kept
my
name
low
key
I
ain't
heard
from
in
weeks
I
came
up
with
a
strategy
to
come
up
mathematically
I
did
it
for
da
city
but
now
everybody
mad
at
me
Mothafuck
'em
all,
they
sweat
from
my
balls
If
I
drop
another
album,
I
did
that
for
my
dawgs
Ten
Maybachs
everybody
ridin'
big
I
just
sit
back
like,
look
what
I
did
Then
I
bow
my
head
and
beg
for
forgiveness
Once
I
said
my
prayer,
everybody
back
to
business
Smokin'
on
a
blunt
in
my
own
restaurant
People
lookin'
from
a
distance
think
I'm
Big
Daddy
Conch
Reincarnated,
spirit
of
a
G
Beef
I'll
make
you
thinner,
take
a
seat
so
we
can
eat
A
Farrakhan
aura,
pause
on
the
pork
You
eat
from
the
bowl,
while
your
dog
need
a
fork
Niggas
ain't
loyal,
snakes
slithered
and
they
coil
I'm
laughin'
at
you
cuz,
kill
you
niggas
when
I'm
bored
We
steppin'
on
you
crew
'til
them
motherfuckers
crush
And
makin'
sweet
love
to
every
women
that
ya
lust
I
love
to
pay
her
bills
can't
wait
to
pay
her
rent
Curtis
Jackson,
baby
mama,
I
ain't
askin'
for
a
cent
Burn
the
house
down
nigga,
you
gotta
buy
another
Don't
forget
the
gas
can,
jealous
stupid
motherfucker
To
another
chapter,
paper
that
I
captured
Caught
up
in
the
rapture
off
gunshots
and
laughter
Homicide
is
humor
and
nigga
you
lookin'
funny
Women
love
to
stare
'cause
they
know
they
see
the
money
I
open
up
her
mind
by
openin'
bank
accounts
Deposit
a
100
stacks
break-up,
won't
take
it
out
Baby
that's
a
gift,
maybe
you
could
live
I
knew
it
wouldn't
work
but
I
just
like
to
give
Used
to
run
the
street,
young
nigga
bare
feet
Now
I'm
in
the
suites
and
I'm
eatin'
crab
meats
Ice
so
right,
other
rappers
envy
They
callin'
all
my
jewelers
up,
askin
what
he
spendin'
Thinkin'
'bout
Boss,
not
thinkin'
'bout
them
This
a
letter
to
my
enemies,
one
I
won't
send
Amen
1 Face
2 Bossy Lady (Ne-Yo)
3 All I Really Want
4 Gunplay
5 Murder Mami (Foxy Brown)
6 All I Really
7 Lay Back (Robin Thicke)
8 Maybach Music 2
9 Murder Mami
10 Lay Back
11 Mafia Music
12 Magnificent
13 Yacht Club
14 Usual Suspects
15 Rich Off Cocaine
16 Face
17 Valley Of Death
18 In Cold Blood
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