Rick Ross - Burn Lyrics

Sitting on some Cali weed I think it’s time to burn
Pull up in some shit to put and draw you gotta learn
Cocaine cowboy you better wait your turn
Michael Corleone, money come and get it on the curve
Niggas wanna hate that’s why they get what they deserve
We only dealing way we had to live and then we learn
No more jays on the porch, days that we were poor
Amazed by mama’s boy, bumping maze in the Porsche
Bullet proof the suburban, they hating when you earn it
Bitches be rolling in it, they say I’m so photogenic
Every night it’s a feast, niggas be having beef
I keep me a young boy, I call him my chief keef
Shooters be with extort, go to war over jordans
But you know I’m in reese, kidnapping over them keys
But you know I’m in reese, kidnapping over them keys

Niggas want talk
What they gone say
I hit the pedal til that muthafucka break
Freaky bitches love the money I make
And to live like this
You muthafuckas gotta pay
So let that shit burn
Let that shit burn
Let that shit burn
Let that shit burn
Gasoline,
The roof on fire, I’m only gettin’ higher
50 racks all in my pocket, all the bottles
I’ma let that shit burn

Hammer on the dresser, work on the stove
I'm sitting on the counter blowing purp out my nose
Red bone naked, in the bed flexin'
I say bitch I ain't impressed you must of got the wrong impression
I ain't with the BS, I'm flyer than PF
Man, we living in hell like a deep breath
Real niggas with real money, real bitches with fake asses
If she don't wanna fuck I get on my skateboard and I skate passed her
Money on the table, guns on the table
Bitch I'm on that syrup tell that ho leggo my Eggo
And my girlfriend is a choppa, I finger fuck that ho
Hello I am Tunechi: you had me at hello
Drop top Maybach, clean like Ajax
Man I don't fuck with none of you niggas like rednecks
We got that work so come and get if we dont know you, you pay tax
I put a hole in your apple what that is apple jacks, uh
Pussy nigga I'll murder you then dance at your funeral
Blood I'll have a nigga drinking his own blood communion
Wake up like Bone Thugs I'll call your bluff pick the phone up
Her titties fake but they look real cubic: zirconia's
Run up in your house spare the kids and kill the grown ups
Your bitch call me when she hot: Krispy Kreme donuts
Shoutout to my new hoes, shoutout to my old hoes
I still wear that ass out like a wardrobe
Bitch, what they gonna say?
Still eating rappers on my fucking lunch break
Bad yellow bitch with a tongue like a snake
I let her suck my dick then I fuck her to some Drake

And then I let that kush burn let that kush burn
Yeah I let that kush burn
Smoking gasoline bitch
The booth on fire I'm in here getting higher
Young Money bitch we at the top like barbwire

Chain all V.S. I ain't with the B.S
Catch me in your city riding hard through the B.X
Skinny nigga but I do it Large like a 3X
The last nigga tried to do me wrong umm he checked
Right back to that money slinging O's in the P.Jects
Or prolly catchin mileage while the pilot steer the P-Jet
Cause we next and we flex like
 

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