Rick Ross - Mafia Music Lyrics

Send "Mafia Music" ringtone to your cell

I got a feelin nigga wit it (?) and my money be da root.

Look up at da stars she like "Honey where da roof?"

Pull up in a Dawes (?) canaries (?) dey go on roof

Even once had a job pourin tar up on da roof.

Dat boy had it hard no facade it's da truth

So now when I menage and get massaged it's da proof.

Proof's in da pudding and dat bakin soda taken

Paper dat I'm makin gotta take dem photos naked.

Listenin to niggas like whistlin dat Wendy Williams

I flip my middle finga I'm chillin on twenty million.

Da rumors turn me on I'm masterbatin at da top

These hoes so excited so dey catchin every drop.

I'm dodgin debacles like pot holes in Jamaica

We cut down the weed bury the paper on dem acres.

Martin had a dream Bob got high

I still do both but somehow I got by.

Preflo prayed Mike Vick payed

Bobby Brown strayed Whitney lost weight.

Kimbo Slice on da pad when I write

Dat may why the money lookin funny in the light.

But who really cares? You just throw it in the air

Celebratin wealth pourin Moët in her hair-

Excuse me her weeve- the bluest of weed

Trunk full of white car smell like bleu cheese.

Dat boy get salad (?) beef bout movements

BM dubs on dem big thangs lookin foolish.

Shawty sittin low big thangs poppin

Tip on da glock from a trip up in Compton.

Shootin at da cops- fuck one time.

I gave her to da block I fucked one time.

We boys in da hood and nigga you Lil' Trey

Suppress ya appetite we takin ya lil' tray.

Love my handgun but my choppa still da shit

Banned in 1994 but I'm too legit to quit.

1996 kilos was the shit

But dat were better den roofin dat shit be bad for ya skin.

Niggas was ruthless lord knows dat I sinned

But I thought about my future and the loops I could pin.

Walked out on a gig and I turned to da streets

Kept my name low key I ain't heard from in weeks.

I came up with a strategy to come up mathematically

I did it for da city but now everybody mad at me.

Mothafuck em all they sweat from my balls

If I drop anotha album I did dat fo my dawgs.

10 Maybachs everybody ridin big

I just sit back like: Look what I did.

Den I bow my head and beg for forgiveness

Once I said my prayer everybody back to business.

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Source - http://www.kovideo.net/mafia-music-lyrics-rick-ross-631573.html

Smokin on a blunt in my own restaurant

People lookin from a distance think I'm Big Daddy Kunk

Reincarnated spirit of a G.

Beef? I'll make u dinner take a seat so we could eat.

A Farrakhan aura paws on the Port

You eat from da bowl while ya dog need a fork.

Niggas ain't loyal snakes slithered in dey coil

I'm laughin at you cuz kill you niggas when I'm bored.

We steppin on ya crew til the mothafuckas crushed

And makin sweet love to every women dat ya lust.

I love to pay her bills can't wait to pay her rent

Curtis Jackson baby mama ain't askin for a cent.

Burn the house down we gotta buy another

Don't forget the gas can jealous stupid muthafucka.

To anotha chapter paper dat I captured

Caught up in da rapture of gunshots and laughter.

Homicide is human and nigga you lookin funny

Women love to stare cause dey know dey see da money.

I open up a mind by openin bank accounts

Deposit a 100 stacks break up or take it out.

Baby dats a gift maybe you could live

I knew it wouldn't work but I just like to give.

Used to run da street- young nigga bare feet

Now I'm in da suites and I'm eatin crab meats.

Ice so right otha rappers envy

Dey callin all my jewelers up askin wat he spendin.

Thinkin bout Boss not thinkin bout dem

This a letter to my enemies one I won't send.

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