Rick Ross - I'm Bad lyrics

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Rick Ross - I'm Bad lyrics

Chorus:) Im Bad (im bad) Im Back (im back), Im Mad (im mad) Im strapped (im strapped) n***a What You Want n***a who you wit Came wit my dogs leavin wit a b**h Im bad (im bad) im back (im back), im mad (im mad) im strapped (im strapped) n***a what you want n***a who you wit Came Wit my dogs leavin wit a b**h (Verse 1:) Aint no limit to the sh** I start Automatic start on that big white car. Pearl pink jar n***a you cant rob. 4 chains and a watch pocket full of knots. Spots, Imma get my stacks. This crack comin back like that income tax. Told you once he told you twice. You need more than a knife You wanna rock that ice. Im bad, magazines up the a**. stolen yellow cab come squeeze on yo a**. He a flash, all black mask. Rappin a** n***a talkin all that jazz. Ride up on him show him how we get down. 100 rounds in his crown bu*t naked and he pound. Tell the truth that n***a be rippin, aint it man. just got a Chevy and I got my sh** painted man. (CHORUS) (Verse 2:) Used to be on the corner, on marijuana. Now its marijuana from california. Big buds, b**hes wit big bu*ts. Big BMW's home of the dick s**s. My Bob Marley is bumpin like b**h what. My money bumper to bumper now b**h what. Im bad im back. im mad im strapped. n***a what you want n***a who you wit. Came wit my dog leavin wit a b**h. i dont see no n***a when im on the grind, all i see is hoe n***as when im on the grind. 45 no n***a, kno im holdin mine. Imma knock his a** down if its own his mind. Tell the truth that n***a be rippin aint it man, just got a Benz and I got my sh** painted man. (CHORUS) B for the bullets in n***as who gotta die. A for the addicts and junkies who gettin high. D for the dope distributed at the dock. Still on the block clock no socks. B for the ba** b**h I gotta boom. A for the a** in my hotel room. D for the dick, dick that I slang. Since money talk, im addicted to my slang. B for the bang. A for the K. D ditch the car for the smooth get away. Im bad, i poke yo a** in the nose wit a cold 44 now he cold on the floor. layin on his back like he posed for a hoe, when you actin like a b**h gotta go gotta go. Tell the truth that n***a be rippin aint it man. Just got a hummer and i got my sh** painted man. (CHORUS)