Rick Ross - Addicted lyrics

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Rick Ross - Addicted lyrics

[Verse 1: Rick Ross] I’mma tell you like this, n***a! I got a hundred Gs on my line I ain’t eating Jacksons when I be in Overtown b**h I’m eatin’ lavish, look up hoe, It’s snowing now I just throw the cabbage, C-M-B gon’ hold me down Got an odor in the attic, that’s a couple pounds New Rolex that I ordered, that’s a hundred thou’ Time to milk the game, b**h, I went and bought a cow My n***a GDK a goon, he’ll gun you down Slid up on em with the stick, yeah, I sat him down My n***a Nut so slick, they ain’t pat him down I got a hundred n***as on my line A hundred squares at a time n***a, hold it down [Hook: Rick Ross] sponsored links I’m addicted to money I’m addicted to chips My hoe was gay Now she addicted to dick (b**h!) Addicted to this Addicted to that I’m gettin’ them stacks It’s more addictive than crack! I’m addicted to money I’m addicted to chips My hoe was gay Now she addicted to dick (b**h!) Addicted to this Addicted to that I’m gettin’ them stacks It’s more addictive than crack! [Verse 2: Birdman] Give the homie 10.5, want 75 a hit Whole thing straight raw, hundred Gs a brick Hustling for a urge, moving them birds Strapped in the cut, got em’ posted on the curb That H! We floodin’ other states That fishtail bake well, chop it in the plate Them V12s move swell with the paper plates The homie fully loaded, so we strapped with a case Give you 10 squares for 750, n***a No talking homie drop it, then go get it On the island, n***a, fresh with a 450 Louis Vuitton’d down, n***a, strapped Money how we livin’ [Hook: Rick Ross] [Verse 3: Birdman] See them fresh, ow… boss of the South, n***a Boss out my mouth, n***a, boss, big house Yeah… so we do it, no drought No cost on your life when you’re playing with the stripes Five mics, fiver-timer OG Blood Straight soldier, n***a, Third World G blood Uptown n***a maxed out the work plug Benz 5 switching lanes with them white dubs [Verse 4: Rick Ross] Or them white fours, I’m ducking them white folks Yeah, my pockets fat, I don’t f** with no lipo I keep that chopper with me, I call it my Geico Trigger hair pin, drop it and it might blow I get them grenades, we call ‘em Bye-Byes It hit your Escalade, p**y n***a, bye-bye p**y n***a, bye-bye… Two-hundred on the dash, n***a, bye-bye… [Hook: Rick Ross]