Rick Ross - Blood Money lyrics

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Rick Ross - Blood Money lyrics

[Intro: Brisco] Ha, yeah, Triple C, CMB n***a Poe Boy, Boss, what it is n***a? Birdman what up? (ACE HOOD~!) The goons to be king, how you love that p**y n***a? Yeah... Blood money [Brisco] The definition: I'm clutchin' on my slippin in The way I'm feelin' right now, a b**h could get the business Just know my n***as squeeze on side Only problem is we doin this head knock I told Ross, "we gon show em how the Gutta do" All black skis, black ones and the jumpsuit Silde in the silder in and out night vision Scopes on the AR to hit em with precision And did I mention this one here's for the thugs dummy A little d** bunny; we did it off of blood money More pieces of Crown Vic surround us We runnin up on n***as, they jumpin off of counters One time for my allies I'm a poe boy that like my guns, supersize CMB what it is I'm cookin up them kids [Hook: Rick Ross] I'm countin blood money Ain't mad cause I love money, came up gettin' drug money We countin blood money Ain't mad cause I love money, came up gettin' drug money We talkin drug money, we talkin blood money We talkin blood money, straight blood money We talkin drug money, it's drug money It's drug money, drug money [Ace Hood] Okay we getting from us servin weight, get it cause we servin yay See the way we get the cake, like everyday's a boring day Blood money, and I'ma count it till they come for me The feds hate it, they mistakin me for Blanco Buddies I'm puttin blood, sweat and tears for this cash money I'm talkin crooked unidentified bags of it I'm talkin yellow table paper; put the tags on it You play with mine, bet I turn you into crash dummies Better not need heaters, I spit them shells like the beatles I have my people go see you, I squash you out like a cheater n***a I'm for that drug money underneath the rug money My n***as love money, yeah, I'm talking blood money [Hook] [Rick Ross] Hammers in the Hummers, sticks in the lids Sweets in the trunk, streets gimmie sneers Money comin fast, blood comin slow Who dem boys with the H? Feds wanna know Gators on thief, neighbors gon sleep You dealin with a G, and the haters gon see Boss I'm in the dealership with a duffle bag Couple Masaradis, couple hundred stacks Far from peaches and cream, n***as deceased on the scene I'm just countin my green, chillin', sippin' my lean Keep investigatin cause you got a job Better keep your vest on b**h cause we got a mob [Hook] [Birdman] Well I'm the mob chief, given orders, callin' all the shots out Make a n***a understand: we gangstas, we don't play out Came from under the sand, lift my own weight up Bought a house off the curb, was patient so it paid up No pleasure and pain homie, just the price for the flight Don't get'cha head chopped f**in' with them five stripes Eagle land it went south, now we got the cake Paper plate money, every time I hitch a state High on this pressure life, famous from the mud Got the game from some old heads, I took it up in Blood Yeah the only price n***a is a price A mill on some whips, a hundred on ya life [Hook] [Outro: Birdman] Yeah... The big things 100... Big dog status, CMB n***a Poe Boy, yeah, 100 Yeah, b**h, holla back