Poppin’ lyrics

by

Rick Ross


[Intro]
(laughter) Ado wade Mafia
Yung Renzel, where ma n*gga Keason
(Maybach music) Empire state of mine
New money, Prenny's running, ain't wet
I love that, No tense
I need you to send my beer hoe

[Hook]
If you ain't handlin’ business, you ain't boss n*gga (huh)
You whipping 6 figures, you ain't flossing n*gga (huh)
Send that b*tch in to get her ass done out in Mexico (woo)
Triple up, we could profit off the videos (yeah)
You ain't handlin’ business, you ain't boss n*gga (huh)
You whipping 6 figures, you ain't flossing n*gga (huh)
Send that b*tch in to get her ass done out in Mexico (woo)
Triple up, we could profit off the videos (yeah)
If you ain't handlin’ business, you ain't boss n*gga (huh)
You whipping 6 figures, you ain't flossing n*gga (hoh)
Send that b*tch in to get her ass done out in Mexico (woo)
Triple up, we could profit off the videos (yeah)

[Verse 1]
Pop in mali, then we do the polygraph (woh)
She would slide with poppy poly for a autograph (facts)
Got it poppin' then am tipping on the stair (facts)
Couple watches kept the baddest b*tches in the bed (woo)
f*ck house arrest, moving how I want to move
They in the news now they call me Ricky chronicles (what)
Flip the page as you see am touching more paper (more paper)
Get the b*tch, now they screaming, Rosey don't save her
At the light I let it out, you like a player wood (glare wood)
Do it two fingers, just like I say I would (holla at you)
And I run the city just as the mayor should (boss)
Give the power to the people, trust me, that ain't good
[Verse 2]
You ain't got no haters, you ain't poppin' n*gga (you ain't poppin' n*gga)
Whole click, now to get it poppin' n*gga (get it poppin' n*gga)
His stando hanging out my Polo bosses n*gga (Polo bosses n*gga)
Po, pop shots, dream about boxing n*gga
Box a n*gga in his game and they tyrna box me out (uh huh)
Charles Barkley in the pace that you never rebound (that's it)
I try to tell her, I don't love her, she's just the rebound (let's get it)
But she don't listen, matter a fact, that's her texting me now
I got to get it, I'm poppin', that's how am living
Text poppin', yeah I admit it
Order some
Cause these b*tches know they be sippin'
Lord knows they be thirsty, Lord knows I've been working (Lord)
I've been positively killing these n*ggas, they know it's certain
I be in a week, fans and weep, fans with my wheat
Tam seeing bread through these wheat (I see it)
Plans go a week, b*tch long hair, we
Weave in, young poppi, young king
n*ggas better peeps you, Keese

[Verse 3]
Young n*gga with his pistol in his chain now (bam)
If they hate'n cause you striping out the slam house (aah)
For [?] and some things we do to people pays
My paper set up, unplugged, am in the drug trade
I grew up with the killers and the robbers n*ggas
They'd strip you out that bomb and ain't no robbers n*gga
Not the type they entertain what you pussies tweet
Cause I could pop you with 'em things, see you in the street
I'm really ready to wide and wreck the father rules
Show you how I divide up all the work and move
So now you understand why these n*ggas hate
So homie you ain't poppin' if them n*ggas ain't
A quarter kia have a n*gga straight
Been in this b*tch so long, I watch the beaker break
I talk dope cause it's universal
You and all black slide n*gga, you a lurk
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