[Intro: Rick Ross]
Run with me or run from me
If worse come to worst, it's only gon' be gunplay
Feel me, n***a? (It's so incredible)

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I'm sittin' at the table, countin' my money
Ain't where I wanna be, but I got a few hundred
Lot of talk on the street like a n***a crossin' me
Well, it's somethin' I gotta see
Is it how my chain swing? Tired of my face?
Tellin' lies gettin' n***as' wives tied up and raped
Similar to the mob, deeper than the rap
All you n***as gettin' robbed, all the cell phones tapped (Damn)
Bullet in my head, bullet in my chest
Yeah, they want a n***a dead, they envy my success
To be loved, to be loved
Oh, what a feelin', hundred rounds in the drum
N***as gettin' whacked, no sympathy for the soft
N***as snitchin', I know bitches who clippin' your dick off
I'm a boss, champagne with the steak
Pink rosé Jason, Ace by the case
Brisco line two, young n***a, what it do?
He got a pretty shone and he wanna bring her through
That's love, we go back to the Blue House
And if she bad enough, may take her to the new house (Boss)
My Maserati be the new body
Got your girl panties wetter than a pool party (N***a)
I got her sleepin' in the king size
Last night I had that bitch sittin' ringside
[Chorus: Gunplay]
You wanna go that route? Go there
I been on this road before (Uh-huh)
I know gunplay, you know gunplay (Yeah)
Shootin' for the win, but ready for the loss (For the loss)
Both lives on the tip of my finger
Yellin' bring it, I'm swingin' that iron (That iron)
When I'm swingin' that iron (That iron), ain't thinkin' 'bout time
Ain't thinkin' 'bout mine, ain't thinkin' 'bout dyin'

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
My n***as so street, my Swishers so sweet
All this money on the table, how a n***a gon' sleep?
Speculation of my deal, it was over ten mill'
Blowin' herb, chauffeur must've hope I didn't feel
Beat the case like Gotti, we the trill Murder Inc
I race, slip and slide, they arraign me in the mink
Look Ted in the eye, it's the end of the road
And the birth of Maybach mean I'm gettin' more dough (Yeah!)
Smellin' Christian Dior, I used to be poor
When you cross Florida line, boy, I'm your leader (Yeah)
Boobie Boys still (Still), Boobie Boys real
You can name a lot of lames that the Boobie Boys killed
Brisco line two, young n***a, what it do?
Say he got a couple kilos and he wanna bring 'em through
That's love, we go back to the Blue House
And if he brought enough, I may buy me a new house
[Chorus: Gunplay]
You wanna go that route? Go there
I been on this road before (Uh-huh)
I know gunplay, you know gunplay (Yeah)
Shootin' for the win, but ready for the loss (For the loss)
Both lives on the tip of my finger
Yellin' bring it, I'm swingin' that iron (That iron)
When I'm swingin' that iron (That iron), ain't thinkin' 'bout time
Ain't thinkin' 'bout mine, ain't thinkin' 'bout dyin'

[Verse 3: Gunplay]
Gettin' how I'm livin' it
Damn near dyin' for every digit I get, fuck they know 'bout that?
Ain't never put shit on the line
Just shit in they rhymes, I shoot a n***a shittin' around
These internet n***as, these ain't a threat n***as
Never seen a laptop in the projects n***a
Just powder cut with Comet
Fuck them comments, convicts ain't buyin' it
If they ain't coppin' or fryin' it
Don't get a n***a fired up behind some fuck shit
My n***a, then what then?
Who that behind the curtain? I'll murk 'em
Wizard-of-Oz-ass n***as, hidin' behind money
Hidin' behind luxury
Shootin' up all that fuck shit, it's getting ugly
Got Torch on the line, said he got a couple nines
Told him grab two, bring 'em on through
[Chorus: Gunplay]
You wanna go that route? Go there
I been on this road before (Uh-huh)
I know gunplay, you know gunplay (Yeah)
Shootin' for the win, but ready for the loss (For the loss)
Both lives on the tip of my finger
Yellin' bring it, I'm swingin' that iron (That iron)
When I'm swingin' that iron (That iron), ain't thinkin' 'bout time
Ain't thinkin' 'bout mine, ain't thinkin' 'bout dyin'