Rick Ross

Rick Ross - Keys To The Crib

rate me

[Hook: Rick Ross]

I got them ki’s in the crib

You wouldn’t find them if you had the keys to the crib

Them niggas cheesing, it’s real

It ain’t cheese if it’s less than a mil’

I think I’m losing my religion

Praying on these niggas, wrap a kilo in a ribbon

Live every day like it’s my last

My only trending topic is the cash

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]

I see no nigga in these clear Gazelles

Bitch-ass nigga, better get some mail

I’m riding in a 6 like this bitch for sale

That boy Meek Mill squeeze clips for real

See me in the street, rose-gold everything

Moving like hoes got me plotting on your team

Learning your whereabouts, burners to air ‘em out

Bitches a motion picture, I’m picturing Paramount

Riding in the Lotus, Teflon Don

With an ambitious bitch, lotus flower bomb

Wale on burn, young nigga’s doing numbers

Double M G got it the next ten summers

I’m trying to do it big forever

Keys to the crib, and I’m with whatever

Ki’s to the crib, nigga, bricks wherever

Hundred mil’ plus til we rich forever


[Verse 2: Rick Ross]

I see no nigga in these red Gazelles

All I see is women with these massive tails

All I see is young’uns with this trash to sell

They got some CO’s that get you hash in jail

Little dope, little coke, talking cash for real

Funeral’s never cool, nigga, pass the steel

I’m a guru in the kitchen, whipping mass appeal

Boobie got a life sentence on his last appeal

That’s one of few names that’ll last for real

Got me drinking from the bottom, no glasses filled

Always purple in the cup, nigga, pass the pills

I’m the first one here to fuck, snatch your ass for real

Keys to the crib, boys, keys to the V

If you at the table, then you eat what I eat

Breathe what I breathe, drink what I drink

Smoke what I smoke and we still mink for mink


[Verse 3: Styles P]

Ki’s in the crib, you want keys to the crib

I got work from Argentina and Belize in the crib

Homie holding a nina, could sneeze him a brick

Knee-deep in the cocaine, trees in the six

Biggie on the stereo, seven-digit flips

This is the scenario — something go wrong, it’s a burial

Hit the hood, watch it go around like a merry-go

White seats, new M5, all cherry though

Heard you at Aces, Courvoisier, toasting the niggas that beat cases

Knowing your connect on a name-to-name basis

Eating with your fam on a day-to-day basis

Weight shit, get the big house and the spaceship

Team of lawyer niggas

That’ll fucking boil niggas for a chain or a bracelet

Nigga, you know I’m living fly

For the love of the game, I put a ribbon on the pie


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