All Day

[Verse 1: Rick Ross] Ugh Floating in my Phantom Life could be a fantasy, the thoughts that I could fathom Foes dying rapidly, the currency I handle Could cause a small catastrophe, can all you niggas handle? Simple as a sack of weed Had to drop 80 carats, rose gold masterpiece Order me a hundred pounds, burn them like a bag of leaves Motherfuck an interview, got a full magazine And fuck what you 'finna do, caught up in the guillotine Niggas in my entourage, the crackers call it killin team Embraced by the Underworld, realest niggas fuck with me Nigga got his chain took, with his niggas in the club Shit done fizzled up, all my niggas game UP