[Intro: Rick Ross] Coast to coast instrumental Red and blue what it do I see you Chi-town all my GD's it ain't nothing but love n***a Maybach music is deeper than the rap n***a [Verse 1: Rick Ross] Millionaires I don't know murs but I know birds I bet a new firs that I know all you n***as first Fake tough guys it ain't even in your blood Sex money murder all them n***as give me love Out in Chi-town all them G's get cabbage Just indicted dough gave ‘em king pin status sh**tin' on these rappers undercover f*ggots And I brought some work with me for the questions they keep askin' Masarati blue it match the denim in the fashion Make haters smile but that mack 11 laughin' f** a few stars f** a few celebs f** it fly a coast Baby we the best Hoes wanna text I never wanna talk Got the burner in the winter in the middle of New York Better hear the facts cause it's deeper than the rap I got people that eat your way cheaper than this stack Mob threshold See the dress code I don't say sh** twice I'm Marc Ecko I'm so Complex And there's no contest I sold fake dope in my own complex Before ya a star better come and join the mob You know the rules wack a n***a and you get a newer car Ya girl wanted bling but ya girl just a fling I'm a boom that boy when that girl was ya thing Boss [Verse 2: Mark Ecko] Breitling flooded links and rings nothing to me Everyday another hater say what they gonna do to me Please I'm west chillin' with my booya trap n***as scared a who where what Not ya'll n***as Got me f**ed up Benz coup or trucked up Head shoota run up on ya point blank buck buck f** a blog my cars a hundred large Put ya a** in a bag ask if there's a problem Boy I ain't gotta move a thumb a soo-woo dumbin' one in the head I squeeze from ya neck down numbin I gotta deal now Told my young boy I hope my steal down Started with a steer down Ended up front page everybody stomped in the warehouse My alibi Ross told the courts know my whereabouts Feared by many loved by few I'm blazin Bentley til they get me I don't care about you bro I'ma do me if I ain't squeezin my a** shankin' I ain't 50 but that yayo keep my bucks bankin' That's the game to precede a new squad New cash touch my a** lose your arm Shout out to the homies flaggin' on the left side Brought my fortunes to New York villa on the west side Condo on Miami Beach Ballin' like Miami Heat Everybody know trip you see runnin' Miami streets