Rick Ross - Santorini Greece lyrics

Sometimes I be wanting to say "f** the world!" I don't give a f**! Shoot it out with all you b**hes b**hes don't love me Young black n***a, n***a fighting the world, n***a Everywhere you go b**hes throwing rocks n***a Man, a n***a in a Lamborghini Seen a Cuban kilo I was 15 Dealing yayo never had my teeth cleaned Restricted license but I'm so divisive I know the snipers and I flow the nicest Fresher than Groovy Lou at a Coogi shoot A multiple weapons in my new Gucci boots The bank account done caught the holy ghost I say the bank account done caught the holy ghost Hot pastrami for my Jewish chicks Eight days of Christmas, every day a newer gift I'm Michael Jackson to the rich n***as That leather jacket, baby, with the 6 zippers Suicide, or rather crucified I prophesize your whole crew demise Mutulu wife reside in Cuba n***a Shoot you, let you bleed out, it's how they do it n***a Huh! Huh! These n***as don't believe in God From this very moment, you should believe in God Half of my n***as headed to Attica Either trafficking or destined to be a janitor Diabetes rampant in my blood line That why fat boy be happy to see the sunshine I'm here for results baby let's cut to chase Sticky fingers and paper D.A. will drop the case Art Basel with Lyor I blew 300 with 'em 2 seaters for all the soldiers who running with 'em Ask 100 women, yeah they wanna hit 'em I be half awake and still be running in 'em Two new liter sprite to get me through the night Bowling alley in the basement but we still shooting dice Rich forever, k**a take my old advice Better yet, take my old b**hes and mold 'em right And if I want her back I come and take her back Santorini Greece, I put it on the map Some points you n***as gotta be grateful Mutulu Shakur I know your dreads touching the floor n***a We in the last days, these racist agendas Blatant double standards because I'm a n***a Jesse Jackson on them people payroll (f** him) When you black, lips chapped cause the game cold I'm giving n***as jobs when I sing songs White man love me when I get my bling on But you hate me buying real estate in foreign land Respect my genius, all my people Portishead Room full of cloaks and they count votes Million man march and I'm taking notes Made it to the top, you thought they saw a ghost Facing tax evasion, n***as sell they soul So selling dope was the path we chose And now it's boats in the Bel-Air rows Rich n***as in the set and stone Neck rocky, Sylvester Stallone See me in Capris or them Andes Santorini, Greece with a dime piece My money long, you know I'm out your reach Only fat n***a jogging on the beach Versace underwear but see the a** crack Oblivious to how rapid my cash stack I'm a pistol toter, f** I'm voting for? (f** 'em) If I could, I'd drop a bomb, let's take em all to war (f** 'em) My favorite shorty out of Baltimore (yeah) Every Chanel you know I bought it for her (I got that) All the arguments she never called the law I was never home but hid the money in the walls Constant visits from the A.T.F So I copped some cribs in the ATL Martha Stewart decorated both Snoop Dogg donated the smoke This Chinese arithmetic, and it all add up It all add up Big Dog, Big Boss Huh! Huh!