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[Verse]
Diplomatic immunity, fuck ’em
All that peace and that unity
All that weak shit’ll ruin me, fuck ’em, yeah
‘Cause niggas started talkin’ to me like I’m slowin’ down
Opinions over statistics, of course
Gassed off journalistic
Come at me and all you’ll get is the ballistic report
Booked a private room at Wylie’s, waiter twistin’ the cork
I got multi-colored rings like the Olympics, of course
At award shows, cuttin’ through the tension, of course
Girls huggin’ me then askin’ me, “What scent that is, boy?”
I be walkin’ around the Six like I invented it, boy
Yeah, who am I? The do or die
The one with the fewest lies and the truest ties
They try to compare us
But like a job straight outta high school there’s no you and I
I taught you everything you know, now you got student pride
All factual, I call the house “the embassy”
The studio “the chapel”, I hate to travel
I just pulled up on Solana show, the girl’s a natural
I knew her way back when Hollywood was international
Yeah, the furthest I’ve been, that’s word to my ends
Word to the flags that belong in the hood of my Benz
Very presidential, I broke all the codes for zonin’ in my residential
I broke spirits that I never meant to
My body isn’t much of a sacred temple, with vodka and wine
And sleep at the opposite times
Promise shit is gettin’ outta line like when you make a stencil
Or gettin’ outta line like when you break a pencil
Violatin’ the Treaty of Versailles
Champagne is the alias, but no cease and desist in I
I refuse to comply with regulations
I listen to heavy metal for meditation, no silence
Like Sanders on the Detroit Lions
Get a run around and I’ll bury you where they won’t find ya
Motor City Casino, I’m at the cage with my old license
They tell me “don’t worry, I got your money” like Osirus
(I’m the Osiris of this shit)
Dirty 30, workin’ on me
Tired of women that may tag me in pictures airin’ my dirty laundry
Caterin’ is from Giorgio Baldi, Robyn’s favorite
Shit is nice, but I prefer Madeo
Calamari rings and tomato
I got the sauce and now shorties keep claimin’ preggo
Wakin’ up at 6 PM like, “Where does the day go?”
Forecastin’ tornadoes, brainstormin’ retaliation at dinner tables
2010 was when I lost my halo
2017 I lost a J. Lo
A Rotterdam trip had me on front page though
I had to lay low, Hot Topic like your everyday clothes
Closed off but I could never stay closed
Billboard awards, I claimed 13 out in Vegas like Sureños
Black excellence, but I guess when it comes to me it’s not the same though, all goodie
That just pushed me to do the things we all couldn’t
Niggas stakin’ out the crib, it’s all gravy
Protection that God gave me
Shit is complex like short niggas ’round tall ladies
I gotta watch who I’m talkin’ to like it’s all-ages
I’ve seen buddin’ careers turn to sit around and talk about other careers, judgin’ their peers
Knowledge from niggas who did not contribute to none of this here
Cover my ears, my security government tier
Yeah, advance the venue so we know the exits
Check the guest list
If opps make an appearance at least it’s expected
Tell ‘em I don’t wanna link like a broken necklace
I’ll be in better company with my own reflection
Mirror, mirror, on the ceilin’ of my suite in the Royal Palace
The TV playin’ Al Jazeera
Inshallah, I hope the mission keeps on gettin’ clearer
Whenever, wherever, OVO will always be together like Shakira

[Outro]
I love, I love
I love, I love it
Baby, I

Rick Ross shut down his baby mama Tia Kemp after she ousted him as a bad father.

Rozay posted a picture of himself and his beautiful daughter and Kemp immediately posted a few messages on her IG story ousting the rap mogul as a bad father. She wanted to know why he hasn’t visited their son in over six months. Usually Rick Ross ignore her rants on social media about him but this time it seems she struck a chord when she brought his close friend and former manager Black Bo, who passed away in December, into their feud.

“You would think after finding ya best friend Black dead n ya crib last month would make u wanna cleanse ya heart,” she wrote. “But the ppl around u won’t tell u wats right So I will.. U riding with the Devil.” Sources told us that didn’t sit well with Rock Ross who felt like she is being a thorn in his side for months and its now time to put her in her place.

“Seems everytime I post a picture of me with my beautiful daughter, she always has some negative energy, so I want to clear this up,” Ross said. “Just because her mother beat your ass she has nothing to do with that, take that ass whooping like a champ that ain’t got nothing to do with her… It’s all love you can’t feed all of your ten siblings off my little man.”

Rick Ross daughter and Tia Kemp got into a fight a few years back so perhaps that was what Rozay was referring to. The MMG rapper and his baby mama had a previous running in October last year.

#ClapBackSeason: #TiaKemp responds to both #RickRoss and #LastoniaLeviston (View previous and earlier posts ?)

A post shared by The Shade Room (@theshaderoom) on Jan 19, 2018 at 12:38pm PST

#PressPlay #RickRoss has a message for his baby momma ? View previous post!

A post shared by The Shade Room (@theshaderoom) on Jan 19, 2018 at 11:29am PST

[Intro: Ballout]
My bitch wanna fuck bro
I’m so icy in the cup tho (yeah, ooh)
Run them bands up, I get ’em pronto (zee)
In the hellcat, blue hunchos

[Verse 1: Lil Uzi Vert]
I ain’t worried about that bitch, I got racks (ya, ooo)
If they shoot at us, we gon’ pop back (faa, yuh)
You keep acting tough, need to stop that (yaah)
I’m already done, can have your thot back (yeah)

[Chorus: Lil Uzi Vert]
Thot back (aye)
Thot back (yeah)
Thot back (woah)
Thot back (yaaah, aye)
Look at you in love, you got your thot back (ooh)
She think Imma cuff baby it’s not that (oooh)
Hit it once, ugh, kick that bitch to the curb
T-to the curb, ooh, kick that bitch to the curb (yah)
I don’t know if it was good, hit her off the perc
She heard this song, ooh, said that boy right there a jerk
Give me brain, turn me lame, to a nerd
Thirty boppers, got them choppers, rock the percs
Brand new for-

[Chorus]
I wanna make a baby with you
Wanna make a baby, girl do you wanna make a baby
I wanna make a baby with you
Wanna make a baby, girl do you wanna make a baby

[Verse 1]
Hold up, baby keep it right there
Don’t move that’s my spot
That’s all I wanna hear you say as I continue to get you hot
Baby slow down, speed it up
Girl I wanna fill you up
Oooouu, there ain’t no limit to what I can do once I’m up in it
And I put that on my Adidas
I’m all everything you ever needed (word)
I can tell your body’s craving girl and I just wanna feed it
See I…

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
You see every one of your desires
I’m gonna make it happen girl just get on top and enjoy the ride
Cause (I’m about to set that ass on fire) so let the iPod play
And let me give you all of me, fulfil your fantasies
I’m just trying to knock you up so you can have your mini me’s

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
I’m talking two thumbs up
Every time we make love
So girl let’s make it happen come on
Cause it’s been long enough, yeah
So baby if you up to it
Let’s skip the bullshit, set this thing right now
Cause I love you ooouu, I wanna marry you ooouu
A generation, population, just tell ’em that it’s human nature
Four, five kids let’s do this, I wanna make a baby right now

[Chorus 2X]

[Intro: Rich The Kid]
La Música de Harry Fraud
You know how the fuck we comin’, nigga
Broke-ass nigga
Broke-ass, bitch-ass boy

[Verse 1: Rich The Kid]
I might put a bitty out (skrrt)
I came up and I got rich, it ain’t no hand out (rich)
I’ma blocka, she a bird (brrr)
Whole team rich forever, it’s my word (huh?)
Ask me how we made it, it was destiny (it was what?)
Same boujee bitches callin’, now they stalkin’ me (bitch)
All I know, I gotta flex up (flex)
Drop a bag (bag)
Ice my neck up (ice)
Ooh, put ’em [?]
She too extra (extra)
Don’t do lectures (no)
Want Saleesha or Alexa (or what?)
Rich Forever, bitch, we got no extras (no bitch, huh?)
Bitch, I been ballin’ on reefer (on reefer)
Fuck her one time, then she need me (she need me)
My diamonds, they clear as the TV (whoa)
My water on my wrist is on Figi
Money too tall, they growin’ up (growin’ up)
My plug on Molly, do dohnuts (skrrt)
He tol’ me my pockets’ll swole up (whoa)
You gettin’ to close, bitch, hol’ up

[Chorus: Rich The Kid]
Watch (watch)
Whole lotta bands on me (bands)
Cut the check and bought a Rollie
He can dance on (whoa, ice)
Then she cookin’ breakfast naked (naked)
Broke-ass niggas say we wouldn’t make it (rich)

[Verse 2: Jay Critch]
Them niggas fake it ’til they make it (hey)
They be too [?] to the basement
Gotta show out, trap a bag of the aces
Diamonds froze now, yeah my chain different races
I’m spend me a check and replace it
I just hit it, it’s never relations (relations)
We the killers like Freddy and Jason (Freddy and Jason)
How I ran up them racks is amazing (amazing)
Oh, you flexin’ with packs?
We gon’ take it (take it)
Me and my niggas came out the basement (basement)
We ain’t trappin’
Make sure they can’t trace it (hey)
I’ma jump in the coupe and I race it (skrrt)
I’ma fuck on your boo and erase it
All these broke niggas is talkin’, can’t take it (take it)
We gon’ put up those shots, it’s the Matrix (bow)
Put a fave in the clutch like [?]

[Chorus: Rich The Kid]
Watch (watch)
Whole lotta bands on me (bands)
Cut the check and bought a Rollie
He can dance on (whoa, ice)
Then she cookin’ breakfast naked (naked)
Broke-ass niggas say we wouldn’t make it