Rick Ross

Rick Ross - Pots And Pans lyrics

rate me

"Pots and Pans"

"Feat. J Rock"

[Chorus]

All I need is bakin soda some pots and pans

Little ice up what i can

Chick at home sayin I'm no good

Fuck that I'm gettin out the hood

[Verse 1]

What started as a nickel rock

Took 22 months now I'm tryna get a block

Fuck football I'm goin down another path

Couldn't past the test

To tell the truht I couldn't fuck with math

I did get a shcolarship but I blew that

Got high, got a ticket and I flew back

To the hell zone most straps stand 20 shell toes

Get life on yo cell phone

Quarter key box of soda Ross whip that

Career criminal fa' sho' Ross with that

Had to pull my pants up

Boy get them brands up

Daddy got some cancer I never had the chance to

Tell him all my plans to let em' fuck a danca

Smokin weed and AmsterDam with his grandson

(Damn) Why he passed on me(on me)

My last homie(homie)

I went and bought a bird

Fuck I want some cash homie

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]

I never wrote a nigga coat tail

Made her took a dope sell

Fuck it nigga oh wells

Smokin on that classified

Rollin in that lac' of mine

Know my mind stay numb to the world half the time

Thinkin bout land rover damn near was fucked up

Found him in the trunk with another dude fucked up

The world fucked up that's why I'm fucked up

Don't get fucked up fuck with me ya fucked up

Bitch I'ma ride, bitch I'ma die

When I holla 305 bitch that's on my life

Got a 40 in the car a choppa in the crib

The grenades down the street you gotta get it how you live

I know niggas turn 1 into 2 and they do what they do

And boy them thangs move

Fishscale get the big mail

In the room full of work

In case they came when they inhale

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]

It's time for me to cash in laughin

Like Martin in an Aston Martin

When I park it I can see ya bitch heartbeat

So roll out the red carpet roll up the purple shit

Black navigator flew

Gotta shut ya fuckin mouth don't ever take the smooth

Thinkin of a greater way to build a greater flow

I hope she got some great head that's how I grade a hoe

White beamer in the hood shining like a star

Look this half a key go to the club and I'ma buy the bar

Do it twice a week fuckin bitches on the other nights

Promise E class we'll never miss another fight

Hundred in the bag 5 birds I'ma grab

Turn em' into 8 keep me a clean half

Bakin soda in the work, works wonderful

Ya see ya dream come true cuz I'm the truth

[Chorus]

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found