Realest Niggas Rick Ross (Ft. Gillie Da Kid & Reed Dollaz)

[Hook:]
This here's for the real money makers ridin’ clean
Pockets on ugh shorty talkin’ on the jean
Never get caught ‘cuz my dip game mean
Sippin’ that lean, the fuck is you mean
My game green with your money round here
Ridin' [?] blowing kush in the air
Chopper on the lap case a nigga actin' tall in it
Nip it in the bub' way before it's gettin' started

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I’m not stuck in the game, I fuck with the game
Sleep late, a nice brunch at P. F. Chang's
Lettuce rap, fresh pineapple juice
Sip a Cosmo while I lie in Malibu
I get the truck washed while I’m sittin’ inside
If you feel this, wait till I’m spittin’ that live
If you livin’ a lie, you gotta face the dirt
Fully automatics and a few racial slurs
Eye of the tiger fire saliva if a nigga sound like me I’m more than likely the author, leader
Slaughter, lead the war, great right
I stay tight with the straight type
And take white to the head late night
Stay tight slay mics straight dykes, what you pay like?
Fo’ five six, how I roll my shit
One of the six five, I sold my shit