High Definition lyrics

by

Rick Ross


[Skit: Bill Whitaker & Mike Tyson]
Bill: Look at this stuff, this is history here...you're history
Mike: This is garbage...I can say I bled for garbage
Bill: So this is meaningless...
Mike: No, at one time it meant a lot. When you're just a young kid this is everything to you, then you realize your priorities change. And you just want your children to be happy and do nice things and that makes you happy. This is nothing. This is just nothing man...

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Ugh, God Forgives and I Don't
That's one of my many emotions, that's one of my many flaws
I am flawed, it may not seem that way but I am
So don't play with me

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I can talk about the bodies, I could tell you 'bout the killing
Duct taping n*ggas in the name of drug dealin'
Big body Benzes while the b*tch n*ggas starve
Turtleneck Mercedes blowin' smoke up out the top
Time to talk about the money, I can tell you bout a profit
Oceanfront spot moving n*ggas out the projects
Diamonds on my neck call it the ghetto's guillotine
f*ckin' with them jewelers n*gga lit up like a screen, HD
Look at me ballin' I'm talkin' high definition
f*ckin' up six digits, boy that's just my definition
n*ggas gotta get murked but I'm just minding my business
Bought three Range Rovers dolo, so f*ck Expedition
On the road to the riches until I'm paid in full
And the Lord is my witness, I got a AK to pull
These n*ggas full of sh*t, my n*ggas moving bricks
I could front you fifty, but you gotta move 'em quick, my moolah thick
[Chorus: Rick Ross]
Went and got me a choppa to put it right in ya face
Better blow out your brains before you give me a case
Got the forty by my di*k I keep on p*ssin' on the hammer
When they talkin' slick I double back with that banana
High definition I'm stacking money to the ceiling
f*ck my ho feelings, look here, it's time to make a killin'
Got a hundred silent n*ggas and they fiending for a million
High definition b*tches, my life a motion picture

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
I could talk about the b*tches, I could tell you 'bout the bricks
Pull up in the Bentley I could pop up in the six
Helicopter rides I can sit it on the club
Sound of the propeller had my young b*tch busting nuts
n*ggas wanna crack jokes just to get close to me
Hope you know that I'm strapped like I supposed to be
Put a number on your helmet like it's Notre Dame
5 grand'll get you whacked, won't even know your name
Road to the riches until I'm paid in full
And the Lord is my witness we making major moves
God forgives and I don't, I got it tatted in my skin
I'm going straight to hell that's if ballin' is a sin
Crucifix on my neck I pray it never melt
Pacquiao purse, boy I took another belt
Take a seat, I'm undefeated in this art of war
Rest in peace to the pussies, it's time to scar some more
[Chorus: Rick Ross]
Went and got me a choppa to put it right in ya face
Better blow out your brains before you give me a case
Got the forty by my di*k I keep on p*ssin' on the hammer
When they talkin' slick I double back with that banana
High definition I'm stacking money to the ceiling
f*ck my ho feelings, look here, it's time to make a killin'
Got a hundred silent n*ggas and they fiending for a million
High definition b*tches, my life a motion picture
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net