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BUSTA RHYMES FT. RICK ROSS & TREY SONGZ lyrics : "Til We Die"

I got whatever I signed
You wanna hop in, (*##$ comin' on
Just have to have your mouth wide

If you know that you plan on coming on
On for what you..
And if you think we're gonna stop

That's just absurd
My little finger's in the sky
Screamin' $#[email protected] a hater til the day a ^!$$% die

Yea, I got 'em yellin' ?Oh God, Lord?
Presence fresh, your neck rise, sharp Tom Ford
$#[email protected] G4s, I charter private Concords

And she through the sky like missiles when they dodge ball
Toast them bottles with the booze
Smell and stink like old money buried in the king's tomb

When you think we smell funny, certain ^!$$%s wanna watch 'em
When it comes to money I'm a nose fragrance, watch the flower blossom
When it comes to bread, y'all ^!$$%s know it's me

I articulate beautiful like a poetry
Hoes bring me that paper just like they all in 3's
Chip 'em a revenue, God bless my rosaries

Listen , that's why your witness and your highness
We're celebratin' success and sippin' on the finest
Most you mother$#[email protected] need to learn to stand behind us

When we come and dismantle you ^!$$%s quick and leave you spineless
But that's for you to dodge us
I got whatever I signed

You wanna hop in, (*##$ comin' on
Just have to have your mouth wide
If you know that you plan on coming on

On for what you..
And if you think we're gonna stop
That's just absurd

My little finger's in the sky
Screamin' $#[email protected] a hater til the day a ^!$$% die
She see me stackin' cheese in my saggy sheets

Silver and Sela, smokin' lavender leaf
Yellow Jesus piece, I still feed the streets
I'm getting score, that Ferrari seats

Riders at the top, get arrogant on 'em
Set a bottle off, you can ride if you wanna
My money mandatory, slippy what deposits look

Money green, Maserati with a body kit
Dead presidents, got my name on the blim
Fast in the residence based on a tip

Playin innocent, the state attorney want a grip
I've got enough, get with puff, I could make a flip
$#[email protected] the charge down for me to top the Forbes list

I'm a fat boy, I but 'em on that poor %#@!
You see that money? I'm touchin' mine
It's Rosay, Trey Songz, Busta Rhymes

I got whatever I signed
You wanna hop in, (*##$ comin' on
Just have to have your mouth wide

If you know that you plan on coming on
On for what you..
And if you think we're gonna stop

That's just absurd
My little finger's in the sky
Screamin' $#[email protected] a hater til the day a ^!$$% die

Hand on my heart while giving thanks and continued bustin' these bottles open
Passin' the time, securin' lanes, gurkin' forgot smokin'
Controllin' every room when I enter there start toastin'

Undecided on what to drive, think the garage is open
As we do the impossible
It seems successfully manifestin' a thought and livin' out the dream

Leave an unforgettable mark of mud
I be in it like adding a chapter to the Bible with my blood, listen
Every day is like a weekend

Like we never give a $#[email protected], celebratin' for no reason
A convoy full of trucks, ain't no question, we all eatin'
Then it's silence when I talk like I'm hearin' the Lord speakin' now

As they complain about my ways
Cuz I'll be grindin', never sleepin' just be ballin' on for days
Be $#[email protected]' every model, every weed in out the strays

And then I'm bouncin' that Bugatti slowly totin' on the haze
Then we pass this %#@! to Trey
I got whatever I signed
You wanna hop in, (*##$ comin' on
Just have to have your mouth wide

If you know that you plan on coming on
On for what you..
And if you think we're gonna stop
That's just absurd
My little finger's in the sky

Screamin' $#[email protected] a hater til the day a ^!$$% die

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Thanks to maria.01215