[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
My attitude is "fuck it", house big as Publix
Shopping is a pleasure, pinky ring, a nugget
N***as like to ride, sip lean out the bucket
I lean to the side, white whip, Michael Douglas
Hard times, call for drastic measures
I call my dog, he brought a Mac-11
40 rounds, hollering "Where the yola at!?"
N***a dead serious, choppah with a shoulder strap
Microphone, Michael Corleone, I know I'm wrong
The man up above love for me to sing them poems
So sing along, you know the song I sing
Bring them things along, I gotta feed the team
It's Rozay, I need a hundred bottles
Yellow bitches, all of 'em swallow
H Town, n***a, 305
I could move them packs, each and every night