Ready for war lyrics

[Pre-Intro: Skit]
Sentence should now-now be pronounced
I'll ask that you stand for sentence, please
Mr. *** it is the sentence of the court that your
Custody be committed to the department of
Corrections for confinement of the *** state prisons
Without possibility of parole for the remainder of your life
You may be seated

[Intro: Rick Ross]
War ready
You got shooters, I've got shooters
We've got money
Let's do what them other n*ggas can't do
Mastermind
n*gga got a thousand guns, n*gga
If money is power, n*gga, then I've got millions of power, n*gga
f*ck with me n*gga, huh?

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
17 I was chargin' n*ggas 17
Ridin' clean, youngest n*gga in the Medellín
Bomber green, in that thang, in the middle lane
Did some thangs for my n*ggas which I can't explain
Versace slippers, 20 chains, b*tch I'm Dana Dane
Put a patch over your eye, f*ck with my petty change
f*ck what you heard, for that bird I'm a dirty n*gga
Laid to rest by the one you thought was workin' with yah
War ready, the game just wanna take my life
War ready, pus*y boy we all could die tonight
War ready, fast cash above the law
War ready, gas mask when them choppers talk
[Hook: Tracy T]
Killas on front line when you're war ready
Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when you're war ready
Just another mama cryin' when you're war ready
Just another homicide cause we war ready
Killas on the front line when you're war ready
Chopper shoot a thousand rounds when you're war ready
Just another mama cryin' cause we're war ready
Just another homicide when you're war ready
War, war, war

[Interlude: Young Jeezy]
A coward dies a thousand deaths, a real n*gga dies but one
21 gun salute out of the top of your drop top coupe
I know a lot of n*ggas gon' hate to see this
Yeah I wish Shake could see this
I'll never fall for what I stand for
This here for Nando
We could live today, blood, and die tonight, cuz

[Verse 2: Young Jeezy]
Box Chevy hit the block, run the whole 50 shots
You just poppin' 'til you know you can't pop 'em no more
We done came through the block and sold many color drops
And these mothaf*ckas think you can't drop 'em no more
All right, a n*gga put some change on your head
Damn right, f*ck around, clear my safe out
I got a few digi scales and a couple Denzels
And you mothaf*ckin' right, this a safe house
Give me the K and a shovel, I'll bury that n*gga
Be his pallbearer, so I can carry that n*gga
What you gonna hit him with, the Glock or the chop?
Look I wouldn't give a f*ck if they were sharin' that n*gga
You mothaf*ckas out here always talkin'
'Bout what another mothaf*cka said
Yeah I got that FNH when that mothaf*cka finna hostin'
I ain't out here to mothaf*ckin' play
Why these f*ck n*ggas always cryin' 'bout somethin'?
Either you're livin' like a ho or you're dyin' 'bout somethin'
Try to let that Rollie breathe but it's hidin' in my sleeve
Like that motherf*cker timid or shy about somethin'
Tomorrow ain't promised, n*gga roll up that weed
Gotta stay strapped to live the life I lead
Start your own alphabet with all them G's
Open up a hundred doors with all them keys
Yeah we live for them coupes but we dyin' by the gun
Missed his court date, now my n*gga on the run
Big sh*t poppin' in his pocket like a lighter
sh*t bag leave a grown n*gga in a diaper
Hangin' out the Rolls, on your mark, get set
Let it go, yeah hold that b*tch steady
When that ritalin get to rushin' and them drums get to bussin'
Yeah I hope you pus*y n*ggas war ready
[Hook]

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Follow in my footstep, I was born to die a soldier
n*gga couldn't walk a mile, found him naked in the river
Shout out to the Vice Lords, shout out to my Blood n*gga
Shout out to them GD's, where that Crip love, n*gga?
Shout out to them dopeboys, owe it to the plug, n*gga
I could die a thousand times, will never die a f*ck n*gga
Shoutout to my city, too, my clip hold a 62
Ridin' down on 63, rest in peace to [?]
Heroin and quinine
Cut that b*tch a thousand times
Phone call said he need a brick
I text him back, "Come stand in line"
You went out of town so I had to wack your b*tch
Never came back, pus*y boy, go die a b*tch

[Hook]

[Outro]
War ready
If you ain't ready to die about it
Don't even mention it to a n*gga like me, baby
I went from nothing, n*gga, to $60 million, n*gga
Walking around in my motherf*ckin' Belaire Rosé [?]
Evander Holyfield's estate, n*gga
$25 million, n*gga
$6 million in marble, $2 million in drapes
Another 5 in chandeliers
230 acres, n*gga
That's just one of the many properties, n*gga
War ready
And I'm down to die 'bout that
We gon' ride 'bout that
So you know we ready to slide 'bout that
Cut that check, n*gga
Whatcha money like, huh?
It's hard to go to war with $70 million, n*gga
Read the obituary, n*gga
What's a hassa?
What's a hassa?
That's you, haha
I'm not gonna kill you, though, haha
I'm not gonna kill you, though, haha
Hey Black, kill this motherf*cker