[Intro: Rick Ross]
I told her that she can't fuck me like a king no more
I told her she gotta make love to me like I'm an emperor
An emperor
Man, I done got money everywhere n***a, but particularly that Turnpike south
It's really a blessing to a young n***a like Renzel

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Indictment on the way, got Sadow on the case
When you get your first kilo, it should be on your face
N***a movin' like the Mob, hundred thousand Francs
Dry land when you wanna be out on the lake (Swish)
Determined to be one of the fortunate men
Bitches come from everywhere, once the hustlin' commence
I see you prayin', testifyin', forgotten the time
Bottom line, your cars should get shot up like it were mine
20 round but the voodoo, let no harm be allowed
Map fout ou deyo, they all know the spirits when I be aroused
Made it to Star Island, started with a nickel rock
Who thought a project n***a get to get a yacht?
Two million dollars cash in the Range Rover
Opa Locka airport, let's get the plane loaded
I put it on the Turnpike
Gold rims, whip wheel, blue bills, duckin' the termites

[Skit: Rick Ross]
I'ma let one of my bad bitches tell y'all how much paper I got
Baby, what we living like? Twenty houses
What else? Fifty cars
Yeah, what that make you feel like?
Priceless baby
Uh, you live for me? Everyday
You would die for me? Right now
Uh, double MG
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Turnpike, real earner, Ted Turner (Me)
Whip it in the kitchen, that boy was a fast learner
Time to live it up, two million tucked in that new Bentley truck
Ain't too many I can trust so shooters is a must
I reminisce when it was hit or miss
I was innocent until I hit a lick
Seven figures on a n***a mama couch
Don't want to hear nobody talkin' 'bout a drought (Boss)
I'm chilling in a yacht in my Mitchell & Ness
Stitches in my britches, 57S
Swishers, you can smell 'em on the internet
Ain't beefing with nobody 'cause I'm killin' that
I toss the pistol on the car chase (Woo)
Then walked into the church just like the boy Mase (Lord)
I'm the man out in Barcelona (Boss)
Got a couple of bad bitches out in California

[Skit 2: Rick Ross]
Real language, biggest
Tell these n***as some more shit bae
Baby, you're the biggest
Uh, your fine ass
The biggest boss, you're my boss baby
How much money we gon' get?
We gon' get all of it baby (Uh)
We gon' take it all honey
Turnpike Ike (Uh, ha)
You're the biggest baby, you're the boss
[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Go get a room right out of town, and I'm in Oprah's yacht
I'm making move with all my rounds, you better call the cops
Second weekend, I just had to go buy me a drop
Slick remarks and I'm in county, yeah look at him shop
Cold games, I gotta step out, I'm on 'em in furs
Gil Green, the way I capture the moment with words
City mine, I keep the killers to fill up a church
Swear to God, a quarter kilo won't get you a verse
Bring mine, stay on time, and that's where we resign
Meanwhile, we'd be having such a meaningful time
Spiritual n***a, baptized up in G5
With bad bitches who idol still with Nicki Minaj
Rags to richest, now I move with beautiful women
Newfound, new beginning, one day that I grew to be winning
If you looking for me catch me on the Turnpike
And when you see me, I'ma show you what this work like, n***a

[Skit 3: Rick Ross]
Fuck you think this is? Turnpike Ike n***a
Isaac Hicks, rest in peace OG
Big Mike, Michael Delancy
Free Michael Delancy
Kenneth Williams, long live Black Bo
Carol City shit, n***a
[Outro: Female vocal]
He a thoughtful n***a, boss
They won't ever be a boss as big as you baby
You're the biggest, the biggest boss
You're the biggest, the biggest boss
You the boss, you the boss