Rick Ross - Famous (Remix) lyrics

Yeah yeah, what up? This your boy Uncle Murda Shout out to all the ladies that take care of their kids f** all you bum b**hes, wow Man I can understand how it might be Kinda hard to love a girl like me I don't blame you much for wanting to be free I just wanted you to know Swizz told me let the beat rock For all my Southside n***as that know me best I feel like me and Taylor might still have s** Why? I made that b**h famous (God damn) I made that b**h famous For all the girls that got dick from Kanye West If you see 'em in the streets give 'em Kanye's best Why? They mad they ain't famous (God damn) They mad they're still nameless (Talk that talk, man) Her man in the store tryna try his best But he just can't seem to get Kanye fresh But we still hood famous (God damn) Yeah we still hood famous I just wanted you to know I loved you better than your own kin did From the very start I don't blame you much for wanting to be free (Maybach Music) I just wanted you to know The furnace, fires, fortunes, and the fumes The aura arrogance is been known to fill the room Boom, little n***a who are you? Roc-A-Fella Records on record to k** a crew Vegas in my palms a don like the Maloofs Only one with beat taste from Kanye on my momma stew For the ye I've been known to be Karmaloop Malcom X in his head say my name and here come to troops Hands out my pocket I co*k it and let it loose And Dame was spilling Armadale on a n***a boots Martin Luther King's real estate was a dream Farrakhan's farm was one that I once seen The final call dogs stay on your deen Fragrances Agent Provocateur stay on my queen Mind your business the k**ers can intervene I'm half naked in the GQ magazine Tours looking like its Wrestlemania I'm The Rock setting fires to the stadium Burn it down then I'm off to anther beat Might get engaged to a freak just for a couple weeks Something I can't afford If you not a playboy that's something I can't endorse Win, lose, or draw William living like he Biggie Smalls Balling its tax season I was born to be a boss See that your face froze Bobby Brown lockjaw, Whitney Houston in the ghost Coogie and Cartier causalities of the fame Your b**h MCM she even tagging my name How you feeling right now? Let me see your lighters in the air Let me see your middle finger in the air Let me see you act up in this motherf**er How you feelin', how you feelin, how you feelin' in this mother f**er, god damn One thing you can't do is stop us now You can't stop the thing now Man it's way too late, it's way too late, it's way too late you can't f** with us To the left, to the right I wanna see everybody hands in the air like this I just wanted you to know I've loved you better than your own kin did From the very start I don't blame you much for wanting to be free I just wanted you to know