Singer: Rick Ross
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Song: Idols Become Rivals
Rick Ross - Idols Become Rivals Subtitles (vtt) (05:35-335-0-en) (PARTIAL PREVIEW)
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WEBVTT
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By RentAnAdviser.com
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Yo this Chris Rock!
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I'm in here with my man Ricky Rozay.
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We in here drinkin' this Belaire Rosé.
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That's how we do it.
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That's all we do,
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Belaire Rosé!
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Eatin' Wingstop, what you know about Wingstop, nigga?
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You don't know nothin' about no Wingstop.
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You can't handle this, nigga,
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you can't handle, sit down in the corner,
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shut the fuck up
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and take notes, bitch.
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Just take notes
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I used to see niggas on TV, man
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I used to be like, "Yo, them niggas
so blessed, you know what I'm sayin'?"
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If I had that opportunity, you know what I'm sayin'?
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(Maybach Music)
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Damn, I grew up on that Cash Money
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Bling bling, was well known to flash money
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Hit the liquor store, after my Vic authority
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Quick to switch a bitch up,
pick up me a thicker shorty
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Pistol on me, nigga, ain't no pickin' on me
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We veterans so it's better if you go get your army
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A thug holiday is where your body lay
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Me and Trick Daddy come from a common place
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So us gettin' money, that's just a conversation
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It's so hard stayin' rich and miss the confrontations
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Cigars in the Oval Office, Ronald Reagan
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Hug Barack Obama whisper as-salāmu ʿalaykum
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Live for the moment, die for the streets
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Bible on the dash, kilos on the seat
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I used to see you niggas on my TV screen
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And wondered what was life like, was it all a dream?
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And then I met you out on LiveNation dates
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Came to the realization that your watch was fake
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Damn... you nearly broke my heart
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I really thought you niggas really owned them cars
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I used to look up to you, nigga, uh
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Hard to point a finger when you live a life of sin
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I'ma bring my niggas with me if I lose or win
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Bought a fleet of cars, let the bitches tag along
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This little thing of ours, not the ones to tattle on
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Omerta the code, Met Ball, parties with Vogue
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Still blowin' thick smoke while you powder your nose
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Such a head rush until the day the feds rush
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That's when you niggas wish you put your bread up
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Leased whips, bad blood, that shit'll sink ships
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Fast money comin' slow, you better think quick
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Rap game, so much fuck shit done
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That's why this .45 in my Trukfit trunks
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Fuck a skateboard, I went and got a Wraith, boy
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Catholic record labels, niggas gettin' raped, boy
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Birdman's a priest, moans in his synagogue
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Publishin' is a sin, repent, forgive me, Lord
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Shots fired, home invasion out on Palm Isle
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Red beam detonators, who the bomb now?
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Look you in your eyes, nigga, 'fore I say good night
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And pray that Mannie Fresh'll get to see the light
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Damn, Stunna, I loved you, nigga
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Hate it came to this
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(Maybach Music)
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You stole them boys pub and bought a foreclosure
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Scott Storch demons in it, which is more poison
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I handed over records, never charged a coin
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But could sense the sentiment, I'm talkin' all along
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All Miami issues, Rozay handle for him
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Same way Big Ducky do for me in California
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Never slippin', got
relationships with the trillest niggas
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Tony Draper, J Prince and ever Jimmy Henchmen
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Plenty killers and I know that Diddy with it
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Tyga, chinchilla, really ain't no penny pinchin'
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Knew that you would never visit BG
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Turk came home, take that boy a three ...........
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