[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Ugh
Floating in my Phantom
Life could be a fantasy, the thoughts that I could fathom
Foes dying rapidly, the currency I handle
Could cause a small catastrophe, can all you niggas handle?
Simple as a sack of weed
Had to drop 80 carats, rose gold masterpiece
Order me a hundred pounds, burn them like a bag of leaves
Motherfuck an interview, got a full magazine
And fuck what you 'finna do, caught up in the guillotine
Niggas in my entourage, the crackers call it killin team
Embraced by the Underworld, realest niggas fuck with me
Nigga got his chain took, with his niggas in the club
Shit done fizzled up, all my niggas game UP