Video Posts And Pans de Rick Ross 2024 Cristiana Lyrics

Rick Ross - Posts And Pans Lyrics

All I need is bakin soda some pots and pans
Little ice up what i can
Chick at home sayin I'm no good
Fuck that I'm gettin out the hood

[Verse 1:]
What started as a nickel rock
Took 22 months now I'm tryna get a block
Fuck football I'm goin down another path
Couldn't past the test
To tell the truht I couldn't fuck with math
I did get a shcolarship but I blew that
Got high, got a ticket and I flew back
To the hell zone most straps stand 20 shell toes
Get life on yo cell phone
Quarter key box of soda Ross whip that
Career criminal fa' sho' Ross with that
Had to pull my pants up
Boy get them brands up
Daddy got some cancer I never had the chance to
Tell him all my plans to let em' fuck a danca
Smokin weed and AmsterDam with his grandson
(Damn) Why he passed on me(on me)
My last homie(homie)
I went and bought a bird
Fuck I want some cash homie

[chorus]

[Verse 2:]
I never wrote a nigga coat tail
Made her took a dope sell
Fuck it nigga oh wells
Smokin on that classified
Rollin in that lac' of mine
Know my mind stay numb to the world half the time
Thinkin bout land rover damn near was fucked up
Found him in the trunk with another dude fucked up
The world fucked up that's why I'm fucked up
Don't get fucked up fuck with me ya fucked up
Bitch I'ma ride, bitch I'ma die
When I holla 305 bitch that's on my life
Got a 40 in the car a choppa in the crib
The grenades down the street you gotta get it how you live
I know niggas turn 1 into 2 and they do what they do
And boy them thangs move
Fishscale get the big mail
In the room full of work
In case they came when they inhale

[chorus]

[Verse 3:]
It's time for me to cash in laughin
Like Martin in an Aston Martin
When I park it I can see ya bitch heartbeat
So roll out the red carpet roll up the purple shit
Black navigator flew
Gotta shut ya fuckin mouth don't ever take the smooth
Thinkin of a greater way to build a greater flow
I hope she got some great head that's how I grade a hoe
White beamer in the hood shining like a star
Look this half a key go to the club and I'ma buy the bar
Do it twice a week fuckin bitches on the other nights
Promise E class we'll never miss another fight
Hundred in the bag 5 birds I'ma grab
Turn em' into 8 keep me a clean half
Bakin soda in the work, works wonderful
Ya see ya dream come true cuz I'm the truth

[chorus]