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Color Money
by
Rick Ross
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Lyrics
Aye, call lil homie to the stage The one got that color money Trappin' for the color money Make it happen for the color money 305, nigga You know what it is If you wanna get a block, then you should see the man Diamonds all through the watch and you should see the band Bottles in the club got me screaming, "Color money" Got her selling pussy for the love of the money Indictments coming and I really think they coming for me In the box Chevy, pussy nigga gunning for me Catch a flight to Paris, time to get some other money You still alive 'cause you niggas still running from me Get it down even if a nigga momma know me Put it down quarter key in every category If you real, all we kill for is color money Fuck where you from, 'cause all we deal with is color money I got a duffle bag that I wanna shop with Or get another double R to cut the top with Or hit the booty club and go and get some pussy whip I might buy a bitch a Benz if I'm pussy whipped Color money Color money Blackjack, black bottles with the black cards Only nigga that you know with two NASCARs Sell a lot of record but I make a brick jump Make her sign a prenup just to get my dick sucked Color money got your bitch out on a world tour My lil homie made a million on his girl tour We back to back and down to whack a nigga unborn Miami niggas got 'em changing all the gun laws So run Forrest, got some shooters and they dying too I got more money than that pussy that you’re signed to Survive, who call this a color money conversation A hundred stacks will cover everything I’m contemplating Full confrontation, home invasion for the quarter key Them cheap ass condos ain't the safest place you want to be Call him a C.O. but you better not go call police So when I see you, I’mma give you what you wanna see You wanna see? Color money Color money Uh, pussy nigga Rob a nigga close to me, you better bring it back Until the day we even steven, tell you bring it back Red rubies on they can't believe a nigga rap Color money still feed niggas in the trap They got the Rolie with the red face The red ring nigga looking like a fed case Fuck all these rappers, real talk, 'cause I ain't fucking with 'em Double M, we balling way harder than Puff and them It ain't no love loss, I only see one boss You looking at him when they got the guns going off And all the bitches on the staff and they get a check So bust it open, never test a nigga intellect Color money Color money Color money Color money Color money
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