I'm a Boss

[Intro: Rick Ross]

Ricky Ross, Raekwon the Chef

Thrill 5 M-I-A, yo

Ya'll know what time it is (trilla) boss

[Rick Ross]

When I'm in the crib (crib), know what time it is (is)

I'm trying to get a mill (mill), so money I can feel (feel)

Fuck a bank account (boss) keep my money in bags (bags)

If you coming here funny, I'm gunning your ass

Nigga, take a look at me, Ross, tell me what's fucking funny (funny)

Bitch, I'm a top shotter (shotter), see all the macks, gunny

Now I'm the pacman, I keep the packs coming

And I got a whole lot, so when that shack coming, baby

I can hold mine, or I can pitch back

Or I can run an option, get it popping, whip that

All my Cuban links, still rocking they Cuban Linx

And they ready to swim, give me the cuban six

I got it orchestrated, cuz I'm a communist

Running for the charms, some left on the wrist

My nigga Raekwon, yeah, he the fucking Chef

So what we cook in the kitchen, he taste the fucking best

[Chorus: Polite]

Nigga, I'm a boss, you can catch me with the top knocked off

In the trap, getting blocks knocked off

Cuz, nigga, I'm a boss, and I'mma show these niggas I ain't gotta talk

I got a chaffeur, nigga, I ain't got to walk

Cuz, nigga, I'm a boss, cross the line, pay the fine top cost

Lose your mind when the nine pop off

Cuz, nigga, I'm a boss, I'm a boss, I'm a boss

Cuz, nigga, I'm a boss, I'm a boss, I'm a boss

[Raekwon]

You know we rich, Rick, my vultures, they get dip, we posting

It's in motion, when that blow come, we flip-flip

Can't take us nowhere, pa, too many spaceships

Lay in the open, new Nike's with glaciers

Love robbing niggas, cracking heads open

It's like tennis, pa, I'm like Venus with the legs smoking

Piping hot heroes, gun deleros, new Aston

Sky blue jammy, skating on zeros

Shorts on, tree lance, cable on, hang to my navel

Diamond down, smoking cheeba, Grey Goose

Dreaming bout lasagna, the beat watery

Half glass of Whiskey, fly light skin little shorty

All my bitches they bang, it's obvious, we be the Gods

Rep me and my mobster sang

We monsters, rocket launchers, razor blades

With wands on, shoot up the telly, go bonkers

[Chorus]

[D.C.] (P.C.) {Polite}

Yo, I'm the money collector (for that money I'll stretch ya)

{I flat line you with that gun that's up under my dresser}

I be handling pies (god damn it I'm fly

It's so high, that if I jump I'll land in the sky)

{You ain't pushing no weight} You a pussy you fake

I be cooking that base (Butter just look at they face)

{Lite keep 'em coming back} The Don, keep 'em coming back

(It's the boss and Rick Ross on the fucking track)

[Chorus]