Ross’ Lyrics
[above4]
Credit: Jamie McCarthy/Getty Images for TIDAL)
Lookin’ at my b*tch I bet she give your a*s a bone
Lookin’ at my wrist it’ll turn your a*s to stone
Stretch limousine, sipping Rosé all alone
Double-headed monster with a mind of his own
Cherry red chariot, excess is just my character
All black tux, ni**a shoes lavender
I never needed acceptance from all you outsiders
Had cyphers with Yeezy before his mouth wired
Before his jaw shattered climbing up the Lord’s ladder
We still speeding, running signs like they don’t matter
Uh, hater talking never made me mad
Never that when I’m in my favorite papertag
Therefore G4’s at the Clearport
When it come to tools fool I’m a Pep Boy
When it came to dope I was quick to export
Never tired of ballin’ so it’s on to the next sport
New Mercedes sedan, the Lex sport
So many cars DMV thought it was mail fraud
Different traps, I was getting mail from
Polk County, Jacksonville, rep Melbourne
Whole clique’s appetite had tapeworms
Spinning Teddy Pendergrass vinyl as my J burns
I shed a tear before the night’s over
God bless the man I put this ice over
Getting 2Pac money twice over
Still a real ni**a, red Coogi sweater, dice roller
I’m making love to the angel of death
Catching feelings never stumble, retracing my steps.
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