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