[Pre-Intro: Skit] Sentence should now-now be pronounced I'll ask that you stand for sentence, please Mr. *** it is the sentence of the court that your Custody be committed to the department of Corrections for confinement of the *** state prisons Without possibility of parole for the remainder of your life You may be seated [Intro: Rick Ross] War ready You got shooters, I've got shooters We've got money Let's do what them other n***as can't do Mastermind n***a got a thousand guns, n***a If money is power, n***a, then I've got millions of power, n***a f** with me n***a, huh? [Verse 1: Rick Ross] 17 I was chargin' n***as 17 Ridin' clean, youngest n***a in the Medellín Bomber green, in that thang, in the middle lane Did some thangs for my n***as which I can't explain Versace slippers, 20 chains, b**h I'm Dana Dane Put a patch over your eye, f** with my petty change f** what you heard, for that bird I'm a dirty n***a Laid to rest by the one you thought was workin' with yah War ready, the game just wanna take my life War ready, p**y boy we all could die tonight War ready, fast cash above the law War ready, gas mask when them choppers talk [Hook: Tracy T] k**as on front line when you're war ready Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when you're war ready Just another mama cryin' when you're war ready Just another homicide cause we war ready k**as on the front line when you're war ready Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when you're war ready Just another mama cryin' cause we're war ready Just another homicide when you're war ready War, war, war [Interlude: Young Jeezy] A coward dies a thousand d**hs, a real n***a dies but one 21 gun salute out of the top of your drop top coupe I know a lot of n***as gon' hate to see this Yeah I wish Shake could see this I'll never fall for what I stand for This here for Nando We could live today, blood, and die tonight, cuz [Verse 2: Young Jeezy] Box Chevy hit the block, run the whole 50 shots You just poppin' 'til you know you can't pop 'em no more We done came through the block and sold many color drops And these mothaf**as think you can't drop 'em no more All right, a n***a put some change on your head Damn right, f** around, clear my safe out I got a few digi scales and a couple Denzels And you mothaf**in' right, this a safe house Give me the K and a shovel, I'll bury that n***a Be his pallbearer, so I can carry that n***a What you gonna hit him with, the Glock or the chop? Look I wouldn't give a f** if they were sharin' that n***a You mothaf**as out here always talkin' 'Bout what another mothaf**a said Yeah I got that FNH when that mothaf**a finna hostin' I ain't out here to mothaf**in' play Why these f** n***as always cryin' 'bout somethin'? Either you're livin' like a ho or you're dyin' 'bout somethin' Try to let that Rollie breathe but it's hidin' in my sleeve Like that motherf**er timid or shy about somethin' Tomorrow ain't promised, n***a roll up that weed Gotta stay strapped to live the life I lead Start your own alphabet with all them G's Open up a hundred doors with all them keys Yeah we live for them coupes but we dyin' by the gun Missed his court date, now my n***a on the run Big sh** poppin' in his pocket like a lighter sh** bag leave a grown n***a in a diaper Hangin' out the Rolls, on your mark, get set Let it go, yeah hold that b**h steady When that ritalin get to rushin' and them drums get to bussin' Yeah I hope you p**y n***as war ready [Hook] [Verse 3: Rick Ross] Follow in my footstep, I was born to die a soldier n***a couldn't walk a mile, found him naked in the river Shout out to the Vice Lords, shout out to my Blood n***a Shout out to them GD's, where that Crip love, n***a? Shout out to them dopeboys, owe it to the plug, n***a I could die a thousand times, will never die a f** n***a Shoutout to my city, too, my clip hold a 62 Ridin' down on 63, rest in peace to [?] Heroin and quinine Cut that b**h a thousand times Phone call said he need a brick I text him back, "Come stand in line" You went out of town so I had to wack your b**h Never came back, p**y boy, go die a b**h [Hook] [Outro] War ready If you ain't ready to die about it Don't even mention it to a n***a like me, baby I went from nothing, n***a, to $60 million, n***a Walking around in my motherf**in' Belaire Rosé [?] Evander Holyfield's estate, n***a $25 million, n***a $6 million in marble, $2 million in drapes Another 5 in chandeliers 230 acres, n***a That's just one of the many properties, n***a War ready And I'm down to die 'bout that We gon' ride 'bout that So you know we ready to slide 'bout that Cut that check, n***a Whatcha money like, huh? It's hard to go to war with $70 million, n***a Read the obituary, n***a What's a ha**a? What's a ha**a? That's you, haha I'm not gonna k** you, though, haha I'm not gonna k** you, though, haha Hey Black, k** this motherf**er