Rick Ross - Family Ties [paroles]

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Rick Ross - Family Ties

Paroles: Family Ties


Some things you have to see for yourself

Francis Ford, fuckin' with them hoes

You niggas still can't afford

[Verse 1]

Made so many mistakes I know that my niggas relate

Just to rattle my cage, so much shit they sat on my plate

She know me through records, but she don't know me too well

All this game is for sale was priceless, I keep for myself

Shots fired, man expired in his Jordan 3's

Small talk, turn that page, that's all they ever read

You graduated, you still unemployed

Taken for granted, love is null and void

No longer one and few, young Langston Hughes

Jewish intuition, I'm followin' cues

Niggas own Versace, don't know Nikki Giovanni

Your paper chasin', can't see that it's runnin' from you

My homies from the block, they labeled me cunnin'

No excuse for my success, so they say I'm Masonic

I keep it one hundred, fuck her, I keep the car runnin'

How she fuck on the back, that's to keep food in the stomach


Look at me, look at me

Realest shit you niggas ever seen

Look at me, look at me

Look at me, look at me

[Verse 2]

Playin' for keeps, and that's just to say at the least

Had a few seizures, nigga refused to get me some sleep

I let shit slide, I should see the sparks

Now I think about my moms when I jot these songs

I think of certain niggas when I mention guns

Heavy artillery, death to enemies number one

Francis Ford, flows you niggas can't ignore

Shoppin' with them hoes you niggas can't afford

Bellaire Rose, they thought I'd go gold, wouldn't sell anything more

They thought I'd fail, they thought I'd fold

Go to hell, any nigga wanna buy my soul

Double-M, extend my hand, I see you stumblin'

Francis Ford films budget, double-forty M's

Godfather money, filmin' part four again

Butterball, Magic City, so you know it's him, me


[Verse 3]

I blaze J's, fuck the Dutch slave trade

Fuck a net worth when I'm just trynna maintain

Tennessee, I felt like Mr. Wendal, nigga

When ain't nobody starin' out that window with you

Obligated, surrounded, when you are often hated

Left a bag of that dope when they flew off to Vegas

It was written, Mr. Jones, a different picture

Strong as bones like Corleones, the realest figures

Speakin' in native tongues, me, myself and I

Through Michael Rapaport eyes, it's just a lost trial

But I see the gems, I see the stars

Diabetes and all, your name will carry on

I pray this legacy is what is left of me

Corporate cannabis givin' me leprosy

Look at me, look at me

Double-M, fuckin' G