Rick Ross - Mafia Music (Remix) lyrics

[Intro: The Game] Yeah! Maybach Music! Family we livin' [Verse One: The Game] Who stack cheddar better than the rat k**er That n***a that bust gats quicker, and he throw back liquor The mafia way, toast it up like Sopranos And when it's snowin, I push it like pianos Back in the Lambo like I was born with it Makavelli prophecy shoot up the car I'm goin' with it From the cradle to the grave on these twenty two's Before I take my last breath I let the semi loose If there's heaven for a n***a with a crucifix So much ice in it, mix the O and Gin and Goose with this B-O- double S that's my n***a Ross! And I'm his Cali connect, cause I can get it 'cross Used to put ducks in the bathroom watch that b**h float Couple years past now it's keys on the big boat Take a shortcut 'round the Pacific Throw the AK in Atlantic that's mafia livin' [Verse Two: Ja Rule] Guess who's bizack? Yeah, n***a you guessed Who shot ya, I spit murder, the music is mafia The swag's incomparable, but that just's comparison Impossible, like dope that don't move And I drip off the spoon, infectious to hoods And one cold afternoon, you'll get shot at your home Now, I smell p**y, p**y got lips But it don't talk to me, that's why you my b**h And you on my dick (ah-ha!) Cause I f**ed ya up once, f**ed ya up twice And you still talkin sh** ('Preme n***a!) What must I do to get through to you? Curly, get off my dick, 'fore that ch-ch-ch-chi-chopper Get ta pah-pah-pah-pah-poppin off of n***as that been mouthin off Read in between the lines when you hear me talk Go and get out of line, this is Rule York [Verse Three: Fat Joe] Thug n***a 'till I die, and I ain't even try See the murder in my eyes, n***a f** the other side I don't give a f**! I will burn your jheri curls Yayo is his bottom b**h, Banks is a girlie-girl Don't worry 'bout Whoo Kid, Macho smacked his face in Lighty threw the towel and begged Pistol not to drape him I meant (?), don't let me catch Nelson I done spoke to God, man, He can't even help him, help him Big up to Maybach Music Got them choppers man, don't make us use it Hits out the park, they call me Big Papi Even if you shot me, you still couldn't stop me Still went to Africa, still wore the big chain Where you got robbed at? n***a, on the same stage I say the sh** that you can't say Cause I am not a snitch, I ain't b**h-made [Verse Four: Rick Ross] David beat Goliath The meek will inherit the earth Deeper Triple black Benz, Lord, forgive me for my sins I put hits on all you n***as, includin' some old friends Money come and go, but the trill will remain b**h, I keep it real like I'm still dealin' 'caine Realest sh** I wrote and I put this on this quote Before I had a flow, I had a kilogram of coke Money on the flo', twenty homies on the books Fat mob boss but I'm runnin wit the crooks No need for a vest, that'll suffocate the flesh I'm Martin on the balcony anticipatin' d**h (d**h) Let the rifles sing, cause "I have a dream" My Coretta Scott-King in the tub full of cream Pink champange seem to take away the pain While the blue hollow points penetratin' all the lames (lames) Money ain't a thang, b**h, that's a lie It only controls every b**h that's alive Money manifests, haters gotta die (die) Tia never told you that that motherf**er rides n***as takin sides, crack smoking wives Cracking crabs at the tables, count the cash, crack the wine Snakes gotta feel it, beef never squashed (never) This time I'm embark on my Million Man March I'm unorthodox, name me the victor In the suite wit Shaniqua and that brain off the Richter Marquise knocks, Marquise stop Then I give him 50 Cent, that's Marquise' pops I put a milli on it, this p**y don't want it Show up in his hood wit the wolves by the mornin' (bang) n***a, this a gift, maybe you could live My music is the mob, it is what it is Strapped to a T, as real as it gets Only boss getting money with the Bloods and the Crips Amen [Outro: Rick Ross] Deeper than motherf**in' Rap, n***a Once you crossed that line It ain't 'bout, North or South It's about money and power, riders and punks We know how the story goes n***a, contract k**ers It's not a threat, it's a promise Money long as 183rd Street, n***a aka Miami Gardens You could make that list too, n***a Amen The Lord is my light and salvation, who shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? My evil and foes come upon me to eat up my flesh, they shall stumble and fall Though a host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear Though war I rise, and this I shall be confident It's deeper than rap, n***a