Aiight

[Intro: Rick Ross] Every card don’t get dealt, nigga [Chorus: Rick Ross] Aight, you wanna try a real nigga? Aight, I’mma show you how we deal with ya Aight, she wanna fuck a dope dealer Aight, or keep fuckin’ with them broke niggas Aight, aight, aight, aight, aight I’m gettin’ money, if you hating Aight, aight, aight, aight, aight I’m gettin’ stripes if you hate on me, always aight [Verse 1: Gunplay] Big, big bully, lockjaw Big, fully off in my top draw Big bullets, big topped off Pussy nigga knocked off Living legend, Silver Seven Beef for dinner, pill for breakfast Head trigger, no rogaine Gripping oakgrain with some stolen cocaine Triple crosser, pistol tosser Foreign car crasher, just a flosser She want a thug nigga, she a little choosey Beat a life sentence, feel like Lil’ Boosie [Chorus: Rick Ross] Aight, you wanna try a real nigga? Aight, I’mma show you how we deal with ya Aight, she wanna fuck a dope dealer Aight, or keep fuckin’ with them broke niggas Aight, aight, aight, aight, aight I’m gettin’ money, if you hating Aight, aight, aight, aight, aight I’m gettin’ stripes if you hate on me, always aight [Verse 2: Gunplay] I’m a straight stunna, take hunna Was a broke nigga, one they used to make fun of MMG, self made pay one up I’m that motherfuckin’ nigga they don’t want none of Born shooter, Porsche tooter Throwing jabs like four Zab Judah’s Bitch I'm reckless, so damn foolish Slanging more stones than them damn jewelers Don Logan, talkin’ vulgar Traphouse, no A.C, torn sofa You niggas know my mothafuckin’ pedigree I’m Gunplay, I’m everything I said I’d be [Chorus: Rick Ross] Aight, you wanna try a real nigga? Aight, I’mma show you how we deal with ya Aight, she wanna fuck a dope dealer Aight, or keep fuckin’ with them broke niggas Aight, aight, aight, aight, aight I’m gettin’ money, if you hating Aight, aight, aight, aight, aight I’m gettin’ stripes if you hate on me, always aight [Verse 3: Rick Ross] You pulled a gun on my homie you better have one for me Ain’t no running up on me, my new Versace fatigue Boobie got with the work what Dre just got for his Beats I expect for these songs to keep me hot with the seats All I want is the money, the masterkey to these riches These pussies keep hating, I’mma hit you with inches Get my nigga a kite, told my warden we did it Put these stacks on these books ‘cause I’m too busy to finish Now back to these guns, my nigga Gun got my back He went on trial for his life, many don’t come out on that If you as real as they come and it’s live for you nigga Now hold up your guns and when you pull back the trigger [Chorus: Rick Ross] Aight, you wanna try a real nigga? Aight, I’mma show you how we deal with ya Aight, she wanna fuck a dope dealer Aight, or keep fuckin’ with them broke niggas Aight, aight, aight, aight, aight I’m gettin’ money, if you hating Aight, aight, aight, aight, aight I’m gettin’ stripes if you hate on me, always aight