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Rick Ross » Pots and Pans
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	(Chorus:) All I need is bakin soda some pots and pans Little ice up what i can Chick at home sayin I'm no good Fuck that I'm gettin out the hood (Verse 1:) What started as a nickel rock Took 22 months now I'm tryna get a block Fuck football I'm goin down another path Couldn't past the test To tell the truht I couldn't fuck with math I did get a shcolarship but I blew that Got high, got a ticket and I flew back To the hell zone most straps stand 20 shell toes Get life on yo cell phone Quarter key box of soda Ross whip that Career criminal fa' sho' Ross with that Had to pull my pants up Boy get them brands up Daddy got some cancer I never had the chance to Tell him all my plans to let em' fuck a danca Smokin weed and AmsterDam with his grandson (Damn) Why he passed on me(on me) My last homie(homie) I went and bought a bird Fuck I want some cash homie (chorus) (Verse 2:) I never wrote a nigga coat tail Made her took a dope sell Fuck it nigga oh wells Smokin on that classified Rollin in that lac' of mine Know my mind stay numb to the world half the time Thinkin bout land rover damn near was fucked up Found him in the trunk with another dude fucked up The world fucked up that's why I'm fucked up Don't get fucked up fuck with me ya fucked up Bitch I'ma ride, bitch I'ma die When I holla 305 bitch that's on my life Got a 40 in the car a choppa in the crib The grenades down the street you gotta get it how you live I know niggas turn 1 into 2 and they do what they do And boy them thangs move Fishscale get the big mail In the room full of work In case they came when they inhale (chorus) (Verse 3:) It's time for me to cash in laughin Like Martin in an Aston Martin When I park it I can see ya bitch heartbeat So roll out the red carpet roll up the purple shit Black navigator flew Gotta shut ya fuckin mouth don't ever take the smooth Thinkin of a greater way to build a greater flow I hope she got some great head that's how I grade a hoe White beamer in the hood shining like a star Look this half a key go to the club and I'ma buy the bar Do it twice a week fuckin bitches on the other nights Promise E class we'll never miss another fight Hundred in the bag 5 birds I'ma grab Turn em' into 8 keep me a clean half Bakin soda in the work, works wonderful Ya see ya dream come true cuz I'm the truth (chorus)
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