Burn

[Intro: Fat Trel] It was right, I was wrong Yeah [Verse 1: Fat Trel] Another nigga die as my cell phone rings Same time bitches kiss the pinky ring I'm a Don, my mother say she knew that all along Back when I was never home, when I was I was strong Try and sell the white like it's right, I was wrong But the money wasn't light, it was ripe, it was long Can't be livin' basic all the business people take it More investigations, all the money we be makin' Double M the G right now I feel like we the greatest Nobody hatin', I promise that's not a statement They in the building with killers they never say shit And all my niggas the realest cause we don't take shit Rose just called me like "got a body for you for forty" I told him if he that important I kill him for sure Stash bodies, I pay the storage, I pay the mortgage [?], they told me my record was gorgeous Wait and listen, then I really start to pay attention Miami in the [?], but the Ferrari missin' Rare forges on these, sorry spotted Tracy in it I'm in the B7, she try to rape me in it I start caressin' her friend and she told me "wait a minute" I'm breakin' records, in sixty seconds we finna sex Then fuck the rest of this beat, cause I'm as finished flex No regrets, just rollin', me and my weapon [Hook: Fat Trel (x2)] Burn this motherfucker down (burn this motherfucker down) Burn this motherfucker down (down) We be them niggas them niggas don't ever come around And when they pull up my chopper like "turn the fuck around" Before I -- [Verse 2: Rick Ross] We checkin' the luggage and carry-on all the money Feedin' all of my niggas, still get new coupes every summer Interested in jets and unforgettable sex [?] went and bought a Corvette Fuck the feds, get it tatted on my neck and leg Ballin' like I'm Derrick Rose on my second legs That fourteen lookin' like my momma deviled eggs You a bitch, in jail them niggas even had you makin' beds For a fiend in my blood I write a hundred songs Never frontin' now my new shit got a hundred rooms Double M, we them dudes not to run into Slutty Boyz, pussy boys what you wanna do? Huh?! [Hook] [Verse 3: Rick Ross] My four-four leave a fuck nigga bedridden Bed sores and his old ho's head spinnin' Think it's a game, niggas layin' in the rain For some shit on Twitter, nigga what the fuck you sayin'? [?] kept a stick in his dad's [?] Then went to war with the whole task force A quarter key is these nigga's goals Caught a case and his whole damn [?] [Verse 4: Fat Trel] Fuck is wrong with these niggas souls? Ain't takin' lip from a bitch unless her pussy is gold And me and bro blow better 'dro got different [?] I different business and Benz, different area codes Wonder why them Taliban niggas never fold I chop 'em like a Chinaman when I drop a roll My teacher drivin' the Camry so I was never wrong She shoulda listened to me, I was right all along [Hook] Burn this motherfucker down Burn this motherfucker down We be them niggas them niggas don't ever come around And when they pull up my chopper like "turn the fuck around"