Rick Ross - All Birds lyrics

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Rick Ross - All Birds lyrics

[Intro: Rick Ross] Walk with a real n***a Self-made millionaire What more could you ask for, huh? [Verse 1: Rick Ross] I'm a kamikaze in a Maserati I'm a John Gotti, got my own army Worth fifty million and it's all on me Fifty on my Rollie knowing yours phony Last problem I had, a n***a head-shot him Say the word on the street is that my man got him If I wasn't involved you wouldn't hear about him I got Lears and all -- don't need Aaliyah problems May she rest her soul, I got a sleeping problem All my CDs gold but the Visa darker ba*tard child but I got a fleet of cars Double-M G this little thing of ours Take it to the door, motherf**er, plea n***as layin' on your crib while your momma sleep Home-cooked meals for the real n***as Hot Tec 9 for you little n***as Want to shoplift? Come and boost this We run the f**ing game, n***a, truth is Cargo pants and my red bottoms Talking 'bout birds you know the boy got 'em [Hook: French Montana] No clothes in the closet, it's all birds No sneakers in the sneaker box, it's all birds No luggage in the trunk, man, it's all birds And I ain't going back -- I'mma ball first [Verse 2: French Montana] Anything you need know I get it cheap My n***a Rozay make millions while he getting sleep Cars European come and see the fleet We're commercial; come and see us if you need the street I'mma bring it home n***a bet the bank Sierra Leone all up in the link 'Bout to double up, some Mason Betha sh** Huddle up, round table, King Arthur sh** Shorty a** fat, she can't stand straight Spent your down payment on my landscape n***as sideways like the Phantom door Hundred round drum sound like round of applause Slicker than a can of grease Paid the state in the ice, hundred grand a piece Coke boy, I'll be thirty for sure now Coke damn near same price as dope now [Hook]