Rick Ross - Imperial High lyrics

[Intro] The imperial You know? (Maybach Music) Ugh [Verse] Money through the roof, it got it falling through the sky Got me counting money on a Percocet high Perpetuate petty ni**as awaiting my demise Noose around my neck, you think a young ni**a kind Lookin' deep into my eyes, you wanna see me rise Who was born commitin' sins? You better watch the signs King of all kings, black Rothschilds One ni**a from the South a get you crossed out So fu*k where you from and fu*k what you sold Watch how you come or watch how it go I diss who you fear 'cause I knew they'd fold And now I'm richer than them ni**as, I could do the most Money through the roof, it's falling from the sky Counting money on a Pеrcocet high I watch how you speak, I listen to your tonе The watches that you wear, this different time zones Crispy calamari, tears for the foes Murder undercover strip from your clothes Coupes for the curbs, suicide doors Suits to be served for the drug lords Clubs full of haters, tips for the waiters Body count, AK-47's made us Bal Harbour shops, ninety in a knot In Design District, boy, you see me at the top Collins Ave, get the coco from the coast guard Coast clear, let's reward the ones who cook raw Dolce & Gabbana bu*toned to the neck Still hoping that Your Honor let the jury rest It's bu*toned to the neck Praying that Your Honor let the jury rest All I wanna do is watch the ship float As the sunset, I'm talking big dope Money through the roof, it's falling through the sky Spent two hundred for the coupe, they wanna shoot inside fu*k wearing vests, I knew they wouldn't fit I'm too slow to run, that'd get me flipped They want me broke but a ni**a rich I'm talking real money, and not just ni**a rich Rap beefs'll get you ni**as buried back east At least, b*tch ni**as better act easy I bought the restaurant, she sold your metaphors I held my ni**as down, you hit the panic doors I'm not impressed by the paintings on these ni**as walls But will he really draw when in amidst the war? I do it for my homies up against the ropes Twenty years in this, talking to a ghost Money through the roof, it's falling through the sky My homie in the pen' until the day he die I put it on his books and give it to his wife He told me not to visit and to live my life Money through the roof, it's falling through the sky All these broke ni**as gotta run inside Goyard luggage, I just wanna fly I pray my ni**as get to see that other side Hundred bricks a boy out in St. Croix For the big belly ass rude boy [Outro] Wah'Gwan, Double M-M-G, man (Maybach Music) Chaa, brrt (Hahaha)