Rick Ross
Nastolgia
[Intro: Fat Trel]
Yeah, so look

[Verse 1: Fat Trel]
Self-made, I brought my lady bitch a new apartment
I had to go with shoe shoppin' 'cause I know how she rockin'
My lady son in LAX, I luv that boy to death
So every day, I hustle hard and [?] every breath
I keep my head held high every single step
Told him when I represent 'cause that's the number set
Them boys bein' hatin' on me to death, it's time to leave 'em wet
When we see 'em, we gon kill 'em, leave where we met
Yeah, hustle hard, I do that shit to death
You can't say I'm like the others when none of them left
He say that's his baby mother, I fuck her to death
Either way, I'm gettin' cake, I see another day
Shoot her on the jail card, shawty never cake
Hard ways, all day, hella soft weight

[Interlude: Rick Ross & Fat Trel]
Give them some of that JW shit, [?] shit homie
Look, hella soft weight

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
I don't bron, I'm tryna stack me up a millionaire-y month
Rainy days, I won't be explainin' them to my son
Sunshine, new Bentley so unspoken like the Mark
Teach 'em all the principles and problems we known and solved
Knew I was a hustlin' muslter, seen it in my eyes
Puff, known a n***a five and I came back with nine
Boss from the start and the flow state of the art
Rose gold, MAC-11 shootin' right up the charts
Hope nobody dies as my blood pressure rise
Heart of a gangster, enteral life is the prize
Makaveli soul make it happen on the stove
I don't know the sixty loads, don't ask me what I drove
[Outro: Rick Ross]
Three red coupe sittin' on the block like red hot chili peppers, ya hear me?
It's that double MG shit, ya hear me?
Self-made, ain't nobody gave us nothin', ya hear me?
Uh, smoke with me