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[Rick Ross:]

Hustle out of necessity, father never corrected me

Streets showed me no sympathy, Audemar my accessory, huh

Never accurate, I’m aiming at your Acura, yeah

Heart rate accelerate on other amateurs

[Meek Mill:]

And I murder anything in my perimeter

If they disrespect us we slide on them like a banister

Dodging fat cameras, balling like fuck stamina

Block doing numbers, I graduated the mansion

[Rick Ross:]

Bricks in the Maybach, bricks in the Escalade

Bricks on brickle, we got bricks in the bay

San Fran bricks got bricks in L.A.

Publisher watch the money, I got bricks on this plane

[Meek Mill:]

And my nigger brick on his way, just did a dime for a brick of the Yay’

I’m switching up my bricks like my kicks with my lay

Rule number one, never keep them bricks where you stay

[Rick Ross:]

All my women photogenic they never depreciate

Pop up in ya city, it’s strictly about the cake

Quarters to half’s on my road to the riches

All real niggers just playing different positions

[Meek Mill:]

Ross can be the quarter back, I’ma run his quarter back

Feds try to intercept a nigger like a corner back

Make a nigger pay a couple birds, get his daughter back

Get the dirty money, clean it all up at the Laundromat

[Rick Ross]

I’m allergic to failure, heroin paraphernalia

Frank Lucas furs at the fight on my cellular

Ball like Mayweather, Don King at the register

I stack chedder, it’s etcetera, etcetera

[Meek Mill]

I’m addicted to winning, pretty women and spinnin’

Ferragamo on linen, a nigger starting he finish

D.A. label me menace, mama call me a king

So therefore I’m dropping soon like Tyson was in the ring

[Rick Ross]

Coca-cola minx, Canary yellow stones

I’ma stunt if it mean I gotta break a bone

Me and Meek Milly in the hood on chrome

Double-M G and we 20 million strong

[Meek Mill]

Doesn’t matter if it’s chess or checkers cause it’s all blocks (bricks)

I’m in this 911 Porsche with a bald spot

No roof, fresh off the car lot

And we don’t call cops nigger, we just call shots

[Rick Ross]

Fuck the competition I bury the cockroaches

Think when you see what I pull up out the holster

Can’t even breath, remember what yo mama told ya

We the real g’s and the well paid soldiers

[Meek Mill]

So if you nigger scared, call the feds up

We taking over I’m just giving niggers heads up

We shoot them down, just to let them know we dead up

8 figure nigger, tell the labels, get our bread up

MMG, bitch, Maybach Music, we just do shit like this for no reason

Rick Ross и Meek Mill - Perfectionist – текст


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