Rick Ross – Made Men ft Drake Lyrics

Rick Ross – Made Men ft Drake Lyrics:

[Rick Ross]

Two door Bugatti coupe

I call it Katy Perry

Wiz Khalifa papers

my favourite berry’s

F65 I call it Rihanna

It got a red top but it’s white like Madonna

Made man, you hear what I said

having a slumber party all my bitches counting bread

made man, also known as Papi Chulo

and I’m running straight up in the culo

my wrist always on frio, call me chilly chill

super head and super head, and I really will

Californication, Motivation in my pocket

got on my blue Dickie, shout out my n-gga Rocky

still smoking sickie, it aint no other option

not for made n-ggas and I’m never stopping

I raised the bar, I set the standards

my yayo, Usher Raymond, that b-tch just keep on dancing

dollar bills on top of dollar bills

thats all I’m throwing, if she wont her momma will

made n-ggas, talking a lot of skrill

8 digits a n-gga tryna live

made man, you hear what I said

I got a hundred squares

if you scared, called the feds

made men, I’m screaming dollar bills

park the trunk on the Porsche

there they go, Dollar bills

[Drake]

Riding round the city, plastic cup of Henny

find a n-gga like me, truth to be told, I don’t know many

I say shout my driver Lauren, thats 62 with curtains

cant see shit, I don’t know where the f-ck I’m at for certain

when it boils down, I’m just a T.O n-gga

but bitches tell me that I just look like a creole n-gga

New Orleans know it’s love, everytime I’m in town

shout out my n-gga tens, thats my brother my round

spending tomorrows money, I call it mañana

off the rack just aint my style, I call it designer

one of my baddest women ever, I call her Rihanna

but thats cause her name is Rihanna!

I’m in the condo just posting watching Miami kill

I might just walk to the arena and watch it for real

Ashes to ashes, me, Rozay and Khaled

smoking bull riders, shit moving slow as a balet

tattoo on your ass, it’d be nice if you show me

I’m buying bitches furs, Mike Tyson, Naomi

I’ve got the right to do it, it’s only right to do it

love me some head, and I love a woman that likes to do it

still love my team, aint no other option

not for made n-ggas and I’m never stopping

I’m Damon Wayans, just know that homie don’t play that

you know we running my n-gga, Young money, Maybach

[Chorus]

 

[Rick Ross - Verse 3]

Black panorama, I call it T-Pain

I got my autotune, that bitch insane

got my revolver too, I call it Ving Rhames

you still a baby boy, we doing big things

street n-ggas, you hear what I said

I got some bad news, Jabar back in the feds

facing twenty, he just did a dime

been out a year, look like he finna ride

genocide, these people killing time

throw you in a hole, you must be penalised

soon as you see success, haters reinvest

miami guns drive, half a million nothing less

raised the bar, I set the standards

my yayo Mc Hammer, that bitch just keep on dancing

Michael Jackson, let it moonwalk

set it on the napkin, let it cool off

[Chorus]