Selasa, 24 Januari 2012

Rick Ross Feat Drake - Made Men Lyrics

Rick Ross*
Two door Bugatti coupe
I call it Katy Perry
Wiz Khalifa papers
Smoking my favorite berry’s
S65 I call it Rihanna
It got a red top
But it’s white like Madonna
Made man, you hear what I said
Having a slumber party
All my bi**hes counting bread
Made man, also known as Papi Chulo
And I’m running straight up in the culo
My wrist always on frio
Call me chilly chill
Super head and super head
And I really will
Californication, Motivation in my pocket
Got on my blue Dickie
Shout out my ni**a Roccett
Still smoking sickie
It aint no other option
Not for made ni**as
And I’m never stopping
I raised the bar, I set the standards
My yayo, Usher Raymond
That bi**h just keep on dancing

Dollar bills on top of dollar bills
That's all I’m throwing
If she wont her momma will
Made ni**as, talking a lot of skrill
8 digits a ni**a tryna live
Made man, you hear what I said
I got a hundred squares
If you scared, called the feds
Made men, I’m screaming dollar bills
Pop the trunk on the Porsche
There they go, Dollar bills

Drake*
Riding round the city
Plastic cup of Henny
Find a ni**a like me, truth to be told
I don’t know many
I say shout my driver Lauren
Thats 62 with curtains
Cant see s**t
I don’t know where the f**k
I’m at for certain
When it boils down
I’m just a T.O ni**a
Out bitches tell me
That I look just like a creole ni**a
New Orleans know it’s love
Everytime I’m in town
Shout out my ni**a ‘Tez,
Thats my brother my round
Spending tomorrows money
I call it mañana
Off the rack just aint my style
I call it designer
One of my baddest women ever
I call her Rihanna
But thats cause her name is Rihanna
I’m in the condo
Just posting watching Miami kill
I might just walk to the arena
And watch it for real
Ashes to ashes, me, Rozay and Khaled
Smoking bull riders
Shit moving slow as a ballad
Tattoo on your a**
It’d be nice if you show me
I’m buying bi**hes furs
Mike Tyson, Naomi
I’ve got the right to do it
It’s only right to do it
Love me some head
And I love a woman that likes to do it
Still love my team, aint no other option
Not for made ni**as
And I’m never stopping
I’m Damon Wayans, just know
That homie don’t play that
You know we running my ni**a
Young money, Maybach

Rick Ross*
Black panorama
I call it T-Pain
I got my auto tune
That bi**h insane
Got my revolver too
I call it Ving Rhames
You still a baby boy, we doing big things
Street ni**as, you hear what I said
I got some bad news, Jabar back in the feds
Facing twenty, he just did a dime
Been out a year, look like he finna ride
Genocide, these people killing time
Throw you in a hole, you must be penalized
Soon as you see success, haters reinvest
Miami gardens drive
Half a million nothing less
Raised the bar, I set the standards
My yayo Mc Hammer
That bi**h just keep on dancing
Michael Jackson, let it moonwalk
Set it on the napkin, let it cool off

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