Rick Ross
Street Money
[Intro: Rick Ross]
Yeah, good looking E-Class
I dig it
What, trilla, realer than fuck n***as

[Chorus: Flo Rida]
You know me, I walk up in the spot
The babies be going crazy, while n***as barely dipping
You know they got that (that street money, that street, that street money)
(That street money, that street, that street money)
You know me, I stay up on my grind
Like working that 9 to 5
Bucket in that '95
I'm out to get that (that street money, that street, that street money)
(That street money, that street, that street money)

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I started flat broke, now I'm popping rubber bands
I know I'm the shit, I done ate a ton of spam
If the club popping, I'mma burn a hundred grams
Check the parking lot, that whip cost a hundred grand
I'm in love with shades, I got a thousand pairs
So that's free game, for all you thousandaires
It's funny, sour diesel smell sweet
All these n***as think they sell em on Canal Street
I'm sitting 12 feet, the fuck can you tell me
I let the 12s beat, nightmare on Elm Street
So don't fall asleep, 'cause my life a dream
And they ain't gotta speak, they know I'm spitting cheese
[Chorus: Flo Rida]
You know me, I walk up in the spot
The babies be going crazy, while n***as barely dipping
You know they got that (that street money, that street, that street money)
(That street money, that street, that street money)
You know me, I stay up on my grind
Like working the 9 to 5
Bucket in that '95
I'm out to get that (that street money, that street, that street money)
(That street money, that street, that street money)

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
We got them bottles popping, sounding like they gun shots
Got them models bopping, get it all with one watch
I hit a lot of markets, start em off with one block
People love the product, so my people come to shop
My uncle 65, he still selling dope
He claim he petrified, the fear of going broke
It's them Caddy Sevilles, went from acid and pills
To elaborate deals, if you want status you kill
Cause a habit for real, when I step in the spot
Treat the club like the charts, I go straight to the top
They cost a stack, so don't step on the shoes
Hey you know I'm strapped, I'mma play by the rules

[Chorus: Flo Rida]
You know me, I walk up in the spot
The babies be going crazy, while n***as barely dipping
You know they got that (that street money, that street, that street money)
(That street money, that street, that street money)
You know me, I stay up on my grind
Like working the 9 to 5
Bucket in that '95
I'm out to get that (that street money, that street, that street money)
(That street money, that street, that street money)
[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Take the good with the bad, in the club blowing your last
Balling like I'm violated, bottles keep me hydrated
Party up in skyscrapers, parachute to Privet
Pistol like a paratrooper, tell 'em take it easy
Bitches bad as can be, this is a fan-ta-ta-tasy
Left her panties at home, standing as thick as can be
R-I-C-K, R-O-S-S
Standing there, dressed fresh
Getting pussy, hell yes
(Ross, Ross)

[Chorus: Flo Rida]
You know me, I walk up in the spot
The babies be going crazy, while n***as barely dipping
You know they got that (that street money, that street, that street money)
(That street money, that street, that street money)
You know me, I stay up on my grind
Like working that 9 to 5
Bucket in that '95
I'm out to get that (that street money, that street, that street money)
(That street money, that street, that street money)