Song Title

Rick Ross - My Man Lyrics (Feat. Meek Mill)

Rick Ross – My Man Lyrics (Feat. Meek Mill & Rockie Fresh)

[Hook: Rick Ross]
Creepin’ through the block, I’m looking for my man
Nigga’s wanna do me, they heard I’m the man
Nigga’s selling work, that’s for them benefits
Early worm, I’m talking shrimp and grits

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
On the corner, drinking out a jug of lemonade
I’m not a rapper pu**y nigga, I’s a renegade
I put the slider in the backseat of them rental plates
We throwin’ money in the club like we the NBA
I got some ho’s and them bitches down to shoot a fade
I got some Zo’s and them nigga’s movin’ two-a-day

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
I’m switchin’ cars with my nigga, do that twice a day
We livin’ large, knowing one day we may ride away
My nigga’ started having seizures when he caught his case
Then he caught his bitch cheatin’, right on father’s day
It’s a dirty game and sometimes nigga wash your face
Haters eatin’ all they got to see, [??]
Bang Bang, where he lay at bitches, where he stay
It make no difference if you call them people right away
Creepin’ through the block, I’m looking for my man
Tryin’ to show you how they do your head for twenty grand
You’re throwin signs that where I’m from that shit’s irrelevant
For them presidents a bitch will get….

[Verse 3: Meek Mill]
I say
Creepin’ through the block I’m looking for my man
He just came home, he did a dime, and he didn’t take the stand
[?] on my nigga, give him fifty grand
Fresh off the jet, straight to my hood, and put it in his hand, word up
These nigga’s ain’t bout that life
[?] stones when I rock that ice
Baking soda when I rock that white
I’m counting racks when that pie hit ice
Got the low, I can’t top that price
But I bet they tell you that rock hit right
No rap or hip hop tonight, just white boy and her rock tonight
Rollie
All my nigga’s rollin’
If I heard him telling, when I see him I expose him
Richest nigga round’ here
When they speak they say I’m chosen
Mac-11, fully loaded, knock a nigga’ outa [?], Whoa

[Verse 4: Rockie Fresh]
Rockie in this bitch, that’s some great news
Yeah I made you a lot but I don’t rock truce
I give a bitch dope dick and some dope shoes
She know if she f**kin’ with the team, then she can’t lose
Double M, G
Do it for the family
Drivin’ through the Chi, top back like it’s Miami
I need a billion dollars and about 9 Grammy’s
And my flow heating up, I make these bitches think they tanin’
Yeah I know the hustle, so, who you think you scammin’
And if a nigga would, then my team going campin’
Yeah we heat em’ up, then we burn aloud
Got these nigga’s hatin’, but I bet my momma proud, f**k em’