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Mafia Music III Lyrics :: Rick Ross | You can find many other song chords here
Mafia Music III – Rick Ross feat Sizzla & Mavado
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
My corner so polluted, young n_ggas looting
I studied Kenneth Williams, I’m one hell of a student
Remarkable hustle, my n_ggas coming home
I kept the candle lit, my n_gga never rowed
N_ggas caught him slipping, gave him a sh_t bag
Five shots to the stomach, 2Pac gift pack
It’s death row, conspiracy theories
Concealed indictments handed to the grand jury
Get some money now, you hated by your own kind
The home invasion done by n_ggas in your bloodline
GABOS, game ain’t based on sympathy
So he put a hit on his cousin in 18th
A sweet potato pie, oh me, oh my
Showing no remorse watching the others cry
Heroin sales, detectives’ll sell
A lot of yellow tape, where that Obama care?
This the mob, b_tch, silk underwear
Yeezy concerts, Kim Instagrams
N_ggas hating, though they studied my moves
I’m like Farrakhan, in view of hundreds of Jews
Two attempts on my life, they threatened venues
Can’t you see what I am? The hustle continue
I bought more jewels, I ordered the Wraith
I got a new style of shoes, match the watch in the face
Bill Belichick, coaching and calling the shots
Throw a yellow flag, p_ssy n_gga body drops
Then we celebrate, black bottles pop
Time to elevate, we re-open shop
Wale a genius, Meek Mill a superstar
My new crib in Phoenix, ten car garage
Patek Philippe, platinum Audemars
Ain’t no tags needed, n_gga, I own them cars
I know them b_tches, we met them broads
Never loved one, f_cked them all
I’m a f_cking dog, Ricky f_cking Ross
N_gga, Birkin bags just for my runner-ups
But my main b_tch she get the main dish
Not the old range, that was a lame b_tch
Brazilian weave, she say I came quick
I let her see a hundred ki’s, a gift from St. Nick
Moving bricks like it’s Black Friday
She gotta f_ck me or call me a fat crybaby
Looking over my shoulder, I can’t trust a soul
Bought a spot in Anguilla just for me and my ho
Glock .40, even when I shower
Chrome .22 in my swimming towel
Mob ties and I pray the music set me free
May the powers that be better let me be
[Hook: Mavado]
Ya better not be around when the sun goes down
And the real, real killers them out for ya
It’s gonna be be a bloodshed
One buss, one dead, it’s gonna be a bloodshed
Gun- gunshot inna head
[Verse 2: Mavado]
Payback is a motherf_cker
Yes I feel it when I squeeze the trigger
I feel the air when my enemies die
I feel the strength of ten killer
What is to be will be
Only God alone can kill me
‘Cause these f_cking streets filthy
And I ain’t f_cking guilty
Can’t stand to take no chance from no guy, know why?
Violent gangster and bullets fly, one guy
Guns go off, or so we say
Murder, action, anywhere
[x2]
[Hook: Mavado]
[Outro: Mavado]
[?], out the doors them screaming
The entire country [?], you don’t know the meaning
[?], I must be dreaming
[?], and we know we got a demon
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Mafia Music III Lyrics :: Rick Ross
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Mafia Music III – Rick Ross feat Sizzla & Mavado
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
My corner so polluted, young n_ggas looting
I studied Kenneth Williams, I’m one hell of a student
Remarkable hustle, my n_ggas coming home
I kept the candle lit, my n_gga never rowed
N_ggas caught him slipping, gave him a sh_t bag
Five shots to the stomach, 2Pac gift pack
It’s death row, conspiracy theories
Concealed indictments handed to the grand jury
Get some money now, you hated by your own kind
The home invasion done by n_ggas in your bloodline
GABOS, game ain’t based on sympathy
So he put a hit on his cousin in 18th
A sweet potato pie, oh me, oh my
Showing no remorse watching the others cry
Heroin sales, detectives’ll sell
A lot of yellow tape, where that Obama care?
This the mob, b_tch, silk underwear
Yeezy concerts, Kim Instagrams
N_ggas hating, though they studied my moves
I’m like Farrakhan, in view of hundreds of Jews
Two attempts on my life, they threatened venues
Can’t you see what I am? The hustle continue
I bought more jewels, I ordered the Wraith
I got a new style of shoes, match the watch in the face
Bill Belichick, coaching and calling the shots
Throw a yellow flag, p_ssy n_gga body drops
Then we celebrate, black bottles pop
Time to elevate, we re-open shop
Wale a genius, Meek Mill a superstar
My new crib in Phoenix, ten car garage
Patek Philippe, platinum Audemars
Ain’t no tags needed, n_gga, I own them cars
I know them b_tches, we met them broads
Never loved one, f_cked them all
I’m a f_cking dog, Ricky f_cking Ross
N_gga, Birkin bags just for my runner-ups
But my main b_tch she get the main dish
Not the old range, that was a lame b_tch
Brazilian weave, she say I came quick
I let her see a hundred ki’s, a gift from St. Nick
Moving bricks like it’s Black Friday
She gotta f_ck me or call me a fat crybaby
Looking over my shoulder, I can’t trust a soul
Bought a spot in Anguilla just for me and my ho
Glock .40, even when I shower
Chrome .22 in my swimming towel
Mob ties and I pray the music set me free
May the powers that be better let me be
[Hook: Mavado]
Ya better not be around when the sun goes down
And the real, real killers them out for ya
It’s gonna be be a bloodshed
One buss, one dead, it’s gonna be a bloodshed
Gun- gunshot inna head
[Verse 2: Mavado]
Payback is a motherf_cker
Yes I feel it when I squeeze the trigger
I feel the air when my enemies die
I feel the strength of ten killer
What is to be will be
Only God alone can kill me
‘Cause these f_cking streets filthy
And I ain’t f_cking guilty
Can’t stand to take no chance from no guy, know why?
Violent gangster and bullets fly, one guy
Guns go off, or so we say
Murder, action, anywhere
[x2]
[Hook: Mavado]
[Outro: Mavado]
[?], out the doors them screaming
The entire country [?], you don’t know the meaning
[?], I must be dreaming
[?], and we know we got a demon
view 155 times
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