Versuri Rick Ross – Santorini Greece lyrics
Sometimes I be wanting to say, “f*ck the world!”
I don’t give a f*ck!
I’ll shoot it out with all you b*tches
B*tches don’t love me
Young black n*gga, n*gga fighting the world, n*gga
Everywhere you go, b*tches throwing rocks, n*gga
Man, a n*gga in a Lamborghini
Seen a Cuban kilo, I was 15 (huh)
Dealin’ yayo, never had my teeth cleaned
Restricted license but I’m so divisive
I know the snipers and I flow the nicest (woo)
Fresher than Groovey Lew at a Coogi shoot (ahh)
A multiple weapons in my new Gucci boots
The bank account done caught the holy ghost (huh)
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*ggas
That leather jacket, baby, with the 6 zippers
Suicide, or rather crucified (huh)
I prophesize your whole crew demise
Mutulu wife reside in Cuba, n*gga
Shoot you, let you bleed out, it’s how they do a n*gga
Huh! Huh!
You n*ggas don’t believe in God
From this very moment, you should believe in God (uh)
Half of my n*ggas headed to Attica
Either traffickin’ 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 (woo)
Art Basel with Lyor I blew 300 with ’em (huh)
2 seaters for all the soldiers who runnin’ with ’em (ahh)
Ask 100 women, yeah they wanna hit ’em
I be half awake and still be runnin’ in ’em (woo)
Two new liter Sprite to get me through the night
Bowlin’ alley in the basement but we still shootin’ dice (haha)
Rich forever, killa take my old advice (yeah)
Better yet, take my old b*tches and mold ’em right (talk)
And if I want her back, I come and take her back (boss)
Santorini Greece, I put it on the map
Some points you n*ggas gotta be grateful
Mutulu Shakur
I know your dreads touching the floor, n*gga
We in the last days, these racist agendas
Blatant double standards because I’m a n*gga
Jesse Jackson on them people payroll (f*ck him)
When you black, lips chapped ’cause the game cold
I’m givin’ n*ggas jobs when I sing songs (let’s go)
White man love me when I get my bling on (n*gga)
But you hate me buyin’ real estate in foreign land (what)
Respect my genius, all my people Portishead (what)
Room full of cloaks and they countin’ votes
Million man march and I’m takin’ notes (huh)
Made it to the top, you thought they saw a ghost (yeah)
Facin’ tax evasion, n*ggas sell they soul
So sellin’ dope was the path we chose
And now it’s boats and the Belaire Rose (woo)
Rich n*ggas in the set and stone (woo)
Neck rocky, Sylvester Stallone (woo)
See me in Capri or them Andes (huh)
Santorini, Greece with a dime piece (huh)
My money long, you know I’m out your reach (n*gga)
Only fat n*gga joggin’ on the beach (haha)
Versace underwear but see the ass crack (ha)
Oblivious to how rapid my cash stack
I’m a pistol totter, f*ck I’m votin’ for? (f*ck ’em)
If I could, I’d drop a bomb, let’s take ’em all to war (f*ck ’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 A.T.L
Martha Stewart decorated both (ha)
Snoop Dogg donated the smoke
This Chinese arithmetic, and it all add up
It all add up
Big Dog, Big Boss
Huh! Huh!
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