Rapper Estates

[Intro: Rick Ross]
I pray for us all
In the immortal words of the brother Malcolm X
Yo, yo, yo (Maybach Music)

[Verse 1: Rick Ross & Benny the Butcher]
Backs against ropes, win a case
Then its back to bein broke, I know the place
Where the rats and the roaches would race
Now its rap niggas smoke-filled estates
Who envisioned my initials in the gates?
Confidential but these bitches know they place
Count C-notes, kilos like Im cuttin cakes
Even Janet Reno know a nigga race
Prince appeal , poppin, sippin purple rain
Ask me how I feel, I tell you I no longer feel the pain
Kill the game, thats three hundred for the chain
And it dont include the charm just to show you who the king
Hundred cars just to show you we at odds
Lets begin to have you dress to your weed in cigars
Stay on the phone, but I limit all remarks
Just remember we the mob and regarded as a god
They want informants on the clique side (Clique side)
They wanna know how low the bricks fly (Bricks fly, uh-huh)
They wanna know a nigga dick size (Dick size, check one, two, one, two)
Even though they know Im livin big time (Big time)
Biggest (Yeah)
Its incredible
[Verse 2: Benny the Butcher]
Yo, I came home with a connect and got started abruptly
Thats five figures off a chick and I bought her Kentucky
We did that twice, then invested in artists thats hungry
To change a young nigga life and launder the money, wait
No handouts, I'm goin on three summers legit
Machine, Cutter, and West, and me, each one of us rich
Before I did it, they aint know these numbers exist
A nigga left the plug, then blew up three hundred to six, mmm
Yeah, Forgiatos veerin, smokin while Im steerin (While Im steerin)
I dont gotta pick these hoes, they volunteerin (Volunteerin)
Jump out, diamonds glarin, flexin, why they starin? (Why they starin?)
I know you wanna take it, so thats why I wear it
I heard they wanna know how much the clique makin
In this book of life, you cant skip pages
Got my strip quakin off a wrist, takin big paper
Im really in the field, you just Skip Bayless, ah

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Its incredible, huh
Been a baller but you never been a base
Just a casket for kilo in a crate
Pray for pastors trapped outside of the gates
Young bastards never tappin the brakes
Dumb rappers never ownin the tapes
Just tools and afterparties to make
More beefs and dirty bitches to chase
New shoes, expensive cars to race
Big homes, just pay em off at a pace
I threw in the elevators and sat em right on a lake
Been in moments the business was at a break
Im at the fork in the road, which way, Hov or Ma$e?
New crib, now add up all of the bills
The niggas you wanna kill, another slice of the cake
More ice and wiretaps from Vice
Rep double M, they wanna lead a double life
Whacka nigga, need no receipts
Clap a nigga, leave him on the seat
Rappers always seem to be the wannabes
It seem like Im the one they really wanna be
[Outro: Rick Ross]
Rappers always seem to be the wannabes
It seem like Im the one they really wanna be
Maybach Music