Rick Ross
I’m Good Remix
[Chorus]
You can find me in the streets, even in the drought
My mattress is full
Why shouldn't I be out
Hey buddy, I'm good
(what they tell you?) I'm good
(what they tell you?) I'm good
(what she tell you?) I'm good
(what you see?)
Two hundred dolla jeans with my favorite patch
Pullin up my ride hell yea the rims match!
What they tell you? I'm good
(what they tell you?) I'm good
(what they tell you?) I'm good
(what she tell you?) I'm good
(what you see?)

[Verse: Pusha T]
The indictment's unsealed, all the lawyers paid
To my players getting money, you our serenade
In that German Nazi, them Italian Mobsters
Talking Benzes and Ferraris if you couldn't follow
They say I'm underrated, I say that's overstated
I couldn't tell, I thought a kilo meant I finally made it
Then came 10, 20 came quick
Walked out the kitchen, face white as Taylor Swift's
Me and my Louis loafers, maybe my Gucci Vans
Beach bum kinda mortgage kicking through the sand
Styling on em (censored), can't fade the brothers
GI Joe, wrap my body on that Complex cover
Automatic starting, frames Chrome Heartin'
AMG kitted, roof is on a milk carton, yeah!
This is the life, fever gone but you could still get right cause I'm good!
[Chorus]

[Verse: Rick Ross]
Ross!
Never sit so it's caviar carryout
Extended clip in the fog, ya gotta air it out
He's so flamboyant, put a fan on him
I'm a blade chopper, black Land Rover
Know I'm looking good, got on too much ice
Open the sunroof, I'm living once twice
Know my sneakers suede
Of course my reefer great, I got it off illegal aid
I'm flyer than a eagle lane
I don't need a belt, damnit cause the money fit
I don't even tie my shoes I know I'mma trip
I'm a stunna tho, Murcielago on money gold
You put her out, I put her onto my bungalow
I'm looking good, I'm feeling better
I made Forbes 6 point M letter
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Boss!

[Chorus]
[Verse: Malice]
Yo!
Mo' money mo' problems, that's what Big said
But we ain't care, we was all about that quick bread
Buying bags for every (censored) I misled
F430 got them caught up in the spider web
Before we met, baby girl was into simple tastes
Til' I put her on that jet, told her pick a place
Cartier wristwear, let her pick a face
Daddy money falling out the sky like it's ticker tape
But this is give and take, you can't call it tricking
As long as the car is not the kids tuition
Louis V, double G, read the inscription
Sitting on Santa's lap, every day is Christmas
Haters keep your distance, waving the four fiver
A twinkle of the eye, smoke em like Cohibas
So here's to senoritas in them superficial love affairs
Million dollar crib, and it's laid like baby hairs

[Chorus]

[Outro]
I'm looking good, I'm looking good
I'm looking good, I'm looking good
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah