Killer Mike Ric Flair Lyrics

Pl3dge Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 So Glorious
  • 2 That's Life II
  • 3 Ric Flair
  • 4 Ready Set Go
  • 5 Burn
  • 6 Go Out on the Town
  • 7 God in the Building II
  • 8 Players Lullaby
  • 9 Animal
  • 10 American Dream Prelude
  • 11 American Dream
  • 12 Everything (Hold You Down)
  • 13 Follow Your Dreams
  • 14 Swimming
  • 15 Ready Set Go (remix)
  • I'm going on tour, and I'm gonna show anybody
    Out there that thinks for one second that maybe
    I'm second guessing myself
    That I am the greatest of all time forever and ever
    One surprise, one surprise, shh! Wooo! I'm back

    To make it out the ice cold streets of the city
    You better have a Christopher word game, witty
    You better have a dance game similar to Diddy
    Or play b-ball above the rim like Smitty
    Josh, Chris Bosh, Pau Gasol
    Or any other ***** that ball and tall
    I used to sell it white as Paul Wall
    Gave my young boi three of them in the mall
    And he gon' bring me 75K back tomorrow
    You know what Bigga 'bout, you know what Bigga do
    Ice water in my veins, heart pumpin' igloo
    I'm familiar wit the money so who the **** is you?
    What the **** you do? Where the **** you from? Who you knowing?
    Somebody get this *****, I don't know him
    And I'm 'bout to jet off on his *** like a Boeing
    Going, going, going, gone, song

    You don't like the prestige that I have in life.
    You don't like the notoriety.
    You detest the fact that I got more cars than most of you have friends!
    I got a big house on the big side of town
    I got life pretty much the way I want it!

    To make it out the ice cold streets of the city
    Your mindstate gotta be as wicked as Fiddy
    Can't love life suckling on mama's *****
    'Cause life is a ***** and a ***** ain't with it
    You gotta have faith livin' life on Biggie
    I'm ready to die for the money, who is with me?
    Life after death, hey this must be hell
    I asked for six figures, God gave back self
    I'm on my way to heaven in a Porsche 911
    Buried in my car, I'm surrounded by a harem
    Surrounded by my brethren, my funeral is legend
    Buried like a Pharaoh with my jewelry in the desert
    The government will hate me like Jesus, but **** 'em
    I did it for the grind, I did it for the hustle
    I did it for the people on the bottom in the struggle
    I did it for my comrades, did it 'cause I love 'em

    Custom made brother, woo! And I mean custom made!
    From the alligators to the Oleg Cassini right here
    Ric Flair! there's only one.
    And I don't care if it's Tokyo, Japan, Greensboro
    Richmond, Charlotte, North Carolina, Asheville,
    Atlanta, Georgia, Charlotte
    L.A, I'm the man that's makin' it possible!

    To make it out the ice cold streets of the city
    You gotta politic your situations like Clinton
    If you chase power you ain't gotta chase women
    So take some advice, take cash over ***
    When you get money you ain't gotta take ****
    So, long as you broke she ain't gotta take ****
    Capiche?
    Now you know what motivate your *****
    Capiche?
    Pay the mortgage or the ***** up for lease
    Capiche?
    Church ladies goin' gaga for the Gucci (yah!)
    Got two Nickis ménagin' for some Louie (yah!)
    Work with the keys, get acquainted with Alicia
    And every other girl named Rihanna wanna meet ya
    They in it for the money, not the swag or the features
    Pretty parasites might suck you like leeches
    Just some information for a student from a teacher
    Real life ****, I'm Mike Bigga, nice to meet ya, gone

    At Delta, the girls call me cool.
    At Eastern the girls call me Slick Ric
    And all the other women around the world just say
    Oh, there goes the man, woo!

    Written by: Michael Render, Sweatbox Productions
    Lyrics © THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC.

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