Rick Ross - Fitted Cap lyrics

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Rick Ross - Fitted Cap lyrics

(Beat Billionaire) [Intro: Rick Ross] You know I stick to the script Twenty-million dollar n***a, but I do it like this (M-M-M-Maybach Music, Maybach Music) My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (huh!) My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (huh!) [Hook: Rick Ross] My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap The Rolls-Royce, it's all white Foamposites, the LeBrons, I'm f**in' wit' the Spikes My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (whoo!) My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (whoo!) The Rolls-Royce, it's all white Foamposites, the LeBrons, I'm f**in' wit' the Spikes [Verse 1: Wale] (How can I not talk big? I got to) (Wale, look, yeah, uh) Ferrari mikes, b**h, I'm on my car show My chick black and white, she ain't no dime, that b**h a Concord 11 Know I'm reppin' this, shoot and I don't ever miss The coupe I'm in is rented, I ain't wit' all that commitment sh** P-R-Ps is proper, couple Gs when I'm shoppin' My girls and my SBs, got a thing for pink boxes Shout out Frankie the Butcher, shout out Mishka in Brooklyn That's some n***a from 10.deep ATL, I'm wit' the cooker I ain't e'en tryin', fool, ho, I ball like private school You bammas like Hyperstrikes, your wifey sleep outside of you And NT my n***as, you know just we just need more sh** and It's ironic how I drop some dough when I got them Homer Simpsons Look, pine green Foams, they may never see the store Got LeBron Entourages like Maverick and Richie Paul b**h, I ball, ho, you lame, look at my Laneys, switchin' lanes Look at my 9s, look at my Blazers, look at my 4s, cut wit' laser Look at my who*e, that is your lady Look at my flo', makin' y'all crazy Makin' y'all sick, y'all cannot tame me Lexus drive me, Maybach pay me Salute [Hook] [Verse 2: Meek Mill] Yo, I said I'm swaggin' out in my Cool Greys No LL, but these cool J's And my wrist froze, but I'm cool sha' Like a bald head, I'm too paid I'm too blazed, and I'm too high George Kush, the whole crew high Wrong move and that tool fly Better calm that a** like woo-sah It's MMG, MOB, young n***a, I been OG Walk around wit' like 10 on me, that 5-7, that fen' on me Don't grin on me wit' them long stares You ain't God then there's no fear Big money, all the hoes here, HD, I see it so clear We j**eled out and we racked up Phantom beep when it back up Big bullets, look like a Mack truck Shooters ride wit' that Mac tucked I'm a Bad Boy, b**h, ask Puff Sip Cîroc it's my last cup On this sh**, I can't stand up Catch a case and I'll man up This Rozay, Wale, Gunplay, and that n***a Pill In Brazil, and this sh** is real, got bad hoes and that Whip Appeal One week and we get the deal, one day and I f**ed the b**h My Levis, they 501, my snapback is hella bent, ha (Hook) [Verse 3: J. Cole] Fresh-a** n***a, no wonder why them hoes be open That's that n***a, so what'd I say? They okey-dokin' How you figga? You f**in' wit' me? I hope he jokin' I'm witcha girl, you home alone, b**h you Macauley Culkin I'm oviedosin', ay, homie, Cole be smokin' Then put my ashes on you n***as, bet you gon' need lotion I'm slowly roastin', heatin' up, so you know we toastin' f** hoes wit' no emotion, fade away like Kobe postin' Out in Sweden, like ain't sh** that you can't tell us Lord, forgive me, as a kid, I used to look at n***as jealous ‘Cause uh, they had them Js, and my mama wouldn't cop ‘em Can you blame her? Hundred dollars for them b**hes want a option Now we livin' much better, n***a, pay whatever Rock them b**hes once then forgot about ‘em forever My kicks like my chick, I don't need to know the numbers You just need to know I'm comin', I'll k** you n***as this summer Cole... Cole, World [Hook]

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