Epic Records - Dead Presidents lyrics

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Epic Records - Dead Presidents lyrics

[Intro: Rick Ross] Rather You Than Me If you've been f**ing with me from Port of Miami It's been hell of a f**ing journey (M-M-Maybach Music) Ain't nun' changed, n***a Lil' stronger, lil' wiser Maybe a lil' more violent Blame it on America, f** it (Beat Billionaire) [Verse 1: Rick Ross] I'm pullin' off the lot, I bought it cash (woah) Her future bright, don't give a f** about her past (woah) Her a** be lookin' good inside the leggings (woah) But I notice that she missin' all her edges (woah) I run the game just by runnin' with the felons (woah) Poor attitude, and got rich n***a calisthenics (woah) Walkin' in the courtroom, sippin' on a beverage (woo) I know the judge, so I got a lot of leverage (woo) Pissin' on these b**hes is a fetish (R. Kelly) Fully loaded .60s smokin' on a seven (all ready) Your dawg get a dime, you never wrote a letter (woah) Still in a box, got him rappin' acapella (woah) Can't trust no people f**in' with the reverend (woah) I got a chopper, boy, don't make me be the devil (woah) He knockin' on the door and know the pa**word (woo) Gave me his blessings, boy, I'm hotter than the last verse (woo) [Hook: Jeezy & Yo Gotti] Dead presidents, dead, d-dead presidents Dead presidents, dead them dead presidents Let's go to war, yeah, all my lil' n***as militant Let's go to trial, we guilty 'til proven innocent Dead presidents, dead, d-dead presidents Dead presidents, dead them dead presidents Fed sentences, fed, f-fed sentences Let's go to trial, we guilty 'til proven innocent [Verse 2: Future] I got thirty white b**hes like Tommy Lee I make drug money, n***a, I make blood money On my third pa**port, and I'm geechie as f** I got wet stripper p**y at the airport I got Bowlingreen dollars on my chopper Bussin' down a hundred bales in the bathtub f** this Philippine p**y in some house shoes I got dope money, n***a, I got war wounds Get to the clutchin' on the hammer, ain't no dance moves I was posted on the, stoop, hangin' with my Haitians The murder's on the, news, all front pages Young n***as catchin' bodies, ain't no relations I was stackin' Ben Franks and bought some Fiji They rob you two times in a row, that's a repeat And I'm f**in' n***as hoes 'cause they easy I'm in here f**in' n***as wives, balls breezy She gotta f** me like she love me, like she need me I got my Maybach flooded out with extra TVs I make a movie every single f**in' day I John Travolta when I flaunt that Patek face [Hook: Jeezy & Yo Gotti] Dead presidents, dead, d-dead presidents Dead presidents, dead them dead presidents Let's go to war, yeah, all my lil' n***as militant Let's go to trial, we guilty 'til proven innocent Dead presidents, dead, d-dead presidents Dead presidents, dead them dead presidents Fed sentences, fed, f-fed sentences Let's go to trial, we guilty 'til proven innocent [Verse 3: Jeezy] Let's go! Hands on these n***as, got the yellow bracelet Check off in my pocket like the yellow pages f** you n***as was when I was ashy, n***a? Loafers in the chop, I keep it cla**y, n***a Build a empire, yeah, that's what my state of mind Motherf** 'em all, yeah, that's what my state of mind Keep the blocks over there, we call it Legoland Meanwhile, the kids smokin' like it's Amsterdam Dope boy prez, you know who got the troops Sixteen when I bought my first Rollie Legend in my hood just like I'm Escobar Never ride dirties in the extra car [Hook: Jeezy & Yo Gotti] Dead presidents, dead, d-dead presidents Dead presidents, dead them dead presidents Let's go to war, yeah, all my lil' n***as militant Let's go to trial, we guilty 'til proven innocent Dead presidents, dead, d-dead presidents Dead presidents, dead them dead presidents Fed sentences, fed, f-fed sentences Let's go to trial, we guilty 'til proven innocent