[Skit: Chris Rock] Yo this Chris Rock. I'm in here with my man Ricky Rozay. We in here drinkin' this Belaire Rose. That's how we do it. That's all we do. Belaire Rose! Eatin' Wingstop, what you know about Wingstop, n***a? You don't know nothin' about no Wingstop. You can't handle this, n***a. You can't handle, sit down in the corner, shut the f** up and take notes, b**h. Just take notes [Intro: Rick Ross] I used to see n***as on TV, man I used to be like, “Yo them n***as so blessed, you know what I'm sayin'?” If I had that opportunity, you know what I'm sayin'? Maybach Music Black Metaphor [Verse 1: Rick Ross] I grew up on that Cash Money Bling bling, was well known to flash money Hit the liquor store, after my Vic authority Quick to switch a b**h up, pick up me a thicker shorty Pistol on me, n***a, ain't no pickin' on me We veterans so it's better if you go get your army A thug holiday is where your body lay Me and Trick Daddy come from a common place So us gettin' money, that's just a conversation It's so hard stayin' rich and miss the confrontations Cigars in the oval office, Ronald Reagan Heard Barack Obama whisper asalaam alaikum Live for the moment, die for the streets Bible on the dash, kilos on the seat I used to see you n***as on my TV screen And wondered what was life like, was it all a dream? And then I met you out on LiveNation dates Came to the realization that your watch was fake Damn… you nearly broke my heart I really thought you n***as really owned them cars [Interlude: Rick Ross] I used to look up to you, n***a, uh [Verse 2: Rick Ross] Hard to point a finger when you live a life of sin I'ma bring my n***as with me if I lose or win Bought a fleet of cars, let the b**hes tag along This little thing of ours, not the ones to tattle on Omerta the code, Met Ball, parties with Vogue Still blowin' thick smoke while you powder your nose Such a head rush until the day the feds rush That's when you n***as wish you put your bread up Leased whips, bad blood, that sh**'ll sink ships Fast money comin' slow, you better think quick Rap game, so much f** sh** done That's why this .45 in my Trukfit trunks f** a skateboard, I went and got a Wraith, boy Catholic record labels, n***as gettin' raped, boy Birdman's a priest, moans in his synagogue Publishin' is a sin, repent, forgive me, Lord Shots fired, home invasion out on Palm Ave Red beam detonators, who the bomb now? Look you in your eyes, n***a, ‘fore I say good night And pray that Mannie Fresh'll get to see the light [Interlude: Rick Ross] Damn, Stunna, I loved you, n***a Hate it came to this Maybach Music [Verse 3: Rick Ross] You stole them boys pub and bought a foreclosure Scott Storch demons in it, which is more poison I handed over records, never charged a coin But consist the sentiment, I'm talkin' all alone All Miami issues, Rozay handle for him Same way Big Ducky do for me in California Never slippin', got relationships with the trillest n***as Tony Draper, J Prince and ever Jimmy Henchmen Plenty k**ers and I know that Diddy with it Tiger, chinchilla, really ain't no penny pinchin' Knew that you would never visit BG Turk came home, take that boy a three piece Shootin' dope, usin' coke, movin' like you the Folks Sacrificin' half our life for your new music cult You would give us self esteem and motivate our drive But was in our pockets by the time we count to five I pray you find the kindness in your heart for Wayne His entire life, he gave you what there was to gain I watched this whole debacle so I'm part to blame Last request, can all producers please get paid? [Outro: Rick Ross] Can't believe this sh**, homie I still love you, n***a How the f**, n***a, you touch half a billion, n***a And your team starvin', n***a You on an island, n***a You came to my city, n***a I let you in my city, n***a And what hurt me the most, n***a Is how you did my brother Khaled, n***a Khaled was loyal to you, n***a The pain I seen in my brother's eye, n***a FaceTimin' my n***a, n***a, he took that to the chin, n***a That's why my n***a blessed That's why my n***a Khaled blessed You put my n***a in the hole, homie I don't feel you for that, my n***a That sh** hurt me, you under-dig? Uh It's painful what you see real n***as do when they get the paper When they get the bag You can't never forget 'bout lil bruh and them I'll never forget 'bout lil bruh and them Lil bruh and them, always remember Lil bruh and them, this for lil bruh and them Stunna