Rick Ross – Blow lyrics

Album: Port Of Miami

[Chorus: Rick Ross (Dre)]
This outta jean, and the head full of dough (Yeah)
Bottle on tha’ rose, pass me some mo'
I got, mo' cars, mo' cars, mo' clothes, mo' clothes
Mo' money, then smoke mo' blow (Bloooowwww)
Mo' money, then smoke mo' blow (Bloooowwww)
Mo' money, then smoke mo' blow

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Way up in them Tailie Hills, burnin' like the sun set
A nigga' wit' a attitude, take it outta' context
Ride wit' that big thangs, lookin' like a parmtret
Beer than beer Afghan in a palm best
Ross, straight on the defro'
Makavali's on the Maybach, kicks retro
She wanna gaves at the sauce
Pullin' up at the juice, gettin’ sage for the jaw
Rick Ross, I'm the best in the flesh
Gettin' less than reject, it's a way to reflect
Hard work, painties off, I'm a boss, you can tell
By the balls in the pail, and the bottles that we shell
I'm in a real, a state, in a real, a state of mine
We came for trigga' plate, kill a nigga' for a dime
I'm tryna' chill today, I got a million on my mind
Dice in my hand, one roll, I blow ya' mind

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Mo' trips, mo' whips, mo' money, I'm mo' rich
Mo' hatas', mo' clips, mo' jewels, mo' chris
Half a hundread grand, this a rubberband
That's all vest, in my other hand
On the other hand, I'm still pitchin' other Hen'
All soft, balls off, bitch a stunna', man
Mo' trucks, mo' bucks, mo' freaks, mo' butts
I see the vision, for club vision, the prephet
I get brain, I bust nuts, in each states
Soon as I see what I'm lookin' for
I sit up in that seat, they cut em' off on them 24's
There it goes, baby gurl' come talk wit' tha' boss
I pop a rose bottles, you can get ya' shoes off

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Ever seen a fat boy in a big body
Know you wanna sit bout' me, all you do is sick bobby
Less a part, mess to get kicked daddy
Next day, buy a condo to get kick outty
We don't take it for the few, this is what I do
Wait em’ on the beach, all my diamonds off gonna' blue
So let's party like the pack jam, Pacman
Fifty grand, stack in my lap man
Get a lap dance, and if you get my dick hard
This ya' last chance, to up up on that big car
Wit' tha' Fat Man, certified Hood Star
But wit’ a millionaire, look bitch you gone far
This the movement, a few niggas' you wanna' move wit'
Gucci on my feet, see I'm only in that new shit
Ha, they say life's a bitch
But close ya' eyes for a minute, and just bite this dick, it’s Ross

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