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Rick Ross - Black Market Album Lyrics



Rick Ross - Black Market Lyrics






Free Enterprise

God is great, first and foremost
Don't you wish everything could be so perfect?

Free Enterprise, overexposed
Irritated, educated still scribble my flows
The jubilation, the euphoria
Pushing a foreign in the morning
Pick your daughter up
Drop your seed off, let the weed up
Slow motion, fast forward till we speed up
Grinding till my new account is fully at ease
Beefing with broke niggas really like pulling my teeth
Get away from me, you looking so suspicious
Light pocket, heavy hearted, you simple minded niggas
Don't be jealous of me, I keep enough foes
Get all the sneakers, not enough clothes
You can have the ex, I got enough hoes
You can have my next, once we a month old
Reptile black [?] handle
Now the trophy on the mantle, well I got a Phantom
Being down and out was inconceivable
When you find out the one you love is just misleading you
Tryna make a living, remain spiritual
Egotistical ways I embraced back in middle school
If the chick was game, we would run a train
Send her home on a bus, then forget her name
But now the bitches be the realest ones
I done cried on the shoulder when I'm feeling numb
See the man getting life and never shed a tear
But his daughter in the night never pierced her ears
Time will come when all that nice shit disappears
Why you think I'm on the night shift with the [?]
Mind frame of that boy that was found [?]
[?] you can tell I been around 'cane
Double R, Ricky Ross, bitch we been the game
Bottom of the black market, tryna rise the game

My inner Andre 3000
So many false allegations , is my image tainted
3 weeks in the hole, as if a nigga heinous
As I'm pacing in the cell all this pictures painted
All i wanted was some Bel Air [?]
[?] just because I'm famous
Or is it cause' I'm rich and I know what pain is?
Assassinate Trump like I'm Zimmerman
Now accept these words as they came from Eminem
Democratic party sentenced to the pendulum
Killing them, I voted for Andre Benjamin
Head of black music do you know what rhythm is?
Stick your head in the basket, it gets venomous
Straight clear my chicks finish my sentences
Time to squash to beef, I kill a nemesis
Show up at the wedding in my Timberlands
And for the record, know my best man will kill a bitch

[John Legend:]
So if I die before I wake, say I, I lived my way
Never said I would be perfect
Never said that I deserved it
Never said I wouldn't lie
Never said I wouldn't make my mum cry
But if I'm gon' die, I believe it's alright
It was so amazing, so amazing
It was so amazing, so amazing
I wouldn't change a thing, no no no
It was so amazing, so amazing
It was so amazing, so amazing
I wouldn't change a thing
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Kevin Cossom, Khaled Mohammed Khaled, John Roger Stephens, David Guy, Nick Movshon, Tarik Azzouz, Nicholas M Warwar, William Leonard Roberts, Leon Marcus Michels, Jeffrey Scott Silverman, Lee Fields, Tobias Pazner
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG Rights Management




Smile Mama Smile

I just wanna see my mama smile
Here I go

I went unconscious, I woke up to see my mama smile
She told me no more promethazine, that'll make her proud
Think about it, damn I had to think about it
Gimme a second, mama, lemme think about it
I went unconscious, I woke up to see my mama smile
She told me no more promethazine, that'll make her proud
Think about it, damn I had to think about it
Gimme a second, mama, lemme think about it
Never had the chance to tell my dad I was a Yankee fan
True love is unconditional, money don't make a man
First time me in a batting cage, I knew I had a gift
Which I had to skip, I'm at the car wash trying to make a tip
Positivity is all I got to give
When we was kids, it was still now it's time to live
That's why I throw a pinkie ring up when I post a pic
It's for my niggas on they dick, look what this nigga did
Think about it, think about it
40 M's in my timbs, still ridin' rims
Word on the streets, they say that nigga get a lot of cake
I take the time, I kiss both cheeks on my mamas face

[Hook - Cee-Lo Green:]
Just smile!
The world had to make me a man, but I'll always be your child!
Mama just smile!
Most importantly, I want you to be proud! Mama just smile!

No I never really mind that we caught the bus
Or that we always stand in line, I'm talkin' all of us
It made me stronger, it made me quicker on my feet
All the gain she gave me the love that she would teach
Turn me onto real estate we bought us 50 homes
Who really gonna be your shoulder when your kid is gone
Who really gonna be your rider when the Bentley's gone?
Or when they singin' like a choir in a Christmas song?
Mama! Always depend on my mama
Just bought another Benz for my mama
I always keep it real with my mama
She harder than a rock
Throw her parties on the block for my mama
I just wanna see my mama smile

[Hook - Cee-Lo Green:]
Just smile!
The world had to make me a man, but I'll always be your child!
Mama just smile!
Most importantly, I want you to be proud! Mama just smile!

Makes me happy just to see a smile on her face
Perfect mother and I love you, tell you every day
You always was a black queen, mama
You showed me all the best things, mama

[Cee-Lo Green:]
I am at love
Your flesh and your blood
Unconditional love inside of me
Mama, just smile
Mama, just smile
Mama, just smile
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: BRUCE HAWES, CHARLES SIMMONS, JAKE DUTTON, JOSEPH JEFFERSON, JOSEPH SAMPLE, RICK ROSS, TERENCE THOMAS, THOMAS CALLAWAY, TONY PIZARRO, TUPAC SHAKUR
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC.




One Of Us

[Nas:]
You could die young out here
Mess around and die before 21 out here
Mamas stressing, seen them ratchets in the dresser
She not asking questions
She seen the vests and seen other kids in the casket resting
Weed so loud they got surround sound
Smoking good shit cause they tryna take me back to some hood shit
Any club, any fly fair
If they start shooting all they remember is Nas was there
Some homies of yours banging affiliation on their personal time
Conflict with business can hurt down the line
It's something that you ain't have nothing to do with
Your man conversation end up getting you hit
Learn how to draw the line from when we hang with the shooters
Strippers, dealers and killers, leaches and opportunists
Where I come from it's ruthless, air you out from the Ubers
Tutored by coke movers, put holes through your
You wouldn't get that from me though, you'd overlook me
Looking like I just get to that money and stay in some pussy
Got a pretty real dope life
Fly nigga from the other side, hecklers, PKs, 9's and .45's
7.62's, deer hunting rifle shells, life is hell
Pussy sweeter than wine tasting
But we won't self indict ourselves
Be our own prosecutor, won't 25 to life ourselves
We bout that moolah, rich shooters

[Hook - Rick Ross & Nas:]
You getting money, got a body then you one of us
Trust
You getting money, got a body then you one of us

[Rick Ross:]
Calculating, touching money, these niggas masturbating
Tailored clothes, fashion magazines, they fascinated
Double-M umbrella, the feds call it tax shelter
Hit a million, they conspire to send the rats at you
Cha-cha-cha-cha, slide, catch me on that other side
Foreign cars, private jets, high rate of homicide
Marc Jacobs chocolate diamonds, they for my white bitch
Atheist, but her pussy could be so righteous
Follow the rules, never let a man take your jewels
And if he do, double back make sure he make the news
It ain't arrest, they ain't a pussy til it's time to bust
You getting money, got a body then you one of us

[Hook - Rick Ross & Nas:]
You getting money, got a body then you one of us
Trust
You getting money, got a body then you one of us

[Rick Ross:]
Dice game, head crackers, time to get it back
Only one in the studio that could get a pack
Raw deal, rob a nigga like it's on my appeal
Closest friends do us best, regardless how I feel
Went to the line and got em bitches on the same day
Straight to the jeweler, and did the watches the same way
Young sav on face time, talking cake time
Next crib I build got cross state lines
Niggas hate how I wear my heart on my sleeve
And half the team, got the choppers with the shoulder slings
It ain't a rust, stay in the trap til you a hundred up
You getting money, got a body then you one of us

[Hook - Rick Ross & Nas:]
You getting money, got a body then you one of us
Trust
You getting money, got a body then you one of us
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: WILLIAM LEONARD ROBERTS, NASIR JONES, CALVIN DAVID JR. KENON
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




Silk Road

Let's dodge rain drops
Follow me

They say I always left a paper trail
Duffle bag in the attic, now how that paper smell (wooh)
And I musta left it there for several years
In case of emergencies, go get a set of wheels
Burning tobacco with my ancestors
Learning on my transgressions
Accepting that street niggas we live by different rules
Pill poppin' everyday I'm in a different mood
They scream our names since we walk the halls (Boss)
With everything to gain only fear Allah
Full metal jacket still the wardrobe
Never waste a prayer for peace in a warzone
Pray to keep the lights on your porch on
Even better pray I get to see my boy grow
Before Instagram we did it up in the ozone
Only nigga still killing never told on

Let's go deep into my cold mind
First one I got it on I got it on the goal line
Fully automatic weapons for my O line
Wanna buy the team they say I need a cosign
I got a beacon jumping out the gym
My new freak she Puerto Rican trying to reel me in
Hit the homey from the hood I told him fill me in
On top of that he said he good I told him bring me 10
Gentrification across the barland
I thought the goal was get rich be a married man
Never question my vision I seen atrocities
But I also see profit on selling properties
Still rising enterprising young entrepreneur
Ostentatious globe-trotting out with Lira Galore (Young Coco)
Six mill I'm born I told them they can keep the change
Pick me up in that new 'rrari swerving lane to lane

Nigga close but it's no cigar
So it better be that Ghost or that double R
My alma mater is serving fed time
See the streets before god cut off his deadline
Damaged yard so tomorrow grows the prominence
Bastard case you can see that was some common sense
I entertain niggas under poverty lines
So I paint these pretty pictures as part of my rhymes
Crack spots block to block I've been a benefactor
I don't think you understand the type of chips I'm after
Corporations but they run them like their small time
We never see eye to eye if you have a soft side
I told you pussy niggas let the lions in
I told these pussy niggas let the lions in
Your record labels left with rigor mortis
I just closed another deal worth another 40
(I just closed another deal worth another 40)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: WILLIAM ROBERTS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Color Money

Color Money
(Aye call lil homie to the stage the one that's 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
Bottle 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 cuz 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
F*ck where you from cuz 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 to go and get some pussy whip
I might buy a bitch a Benz if he pussy whip

Color money
Color money

Blackjack Black Bottles with the Black Cards
Only nigga that you know with two NASCAR's
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 them 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'ma give you what you wanna see
You wanna see?

Color money
Color money

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
You got the Rolie with the red face
The red ring nigga looking like a fair case
F*ck all these rappers real talk cuz I ain't f*cking with em
Double M we balling way harder than Puff and em
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
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Dwayne Leon Richardson, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Dope Dick

Ain't no makin' love to a young dope boy, a young rich nigga.
This that dope dick. She addicted to that dope dick.
I got her hooked, got her locked, talkin' 'bout Rolls Royces nigga,
what else woe? Dope dick, back seat, front seat

Since I came in the game, you niggas philosophies changed
Chasing money, Geto Boys and Underground Kingz
Wrote the rules on how to ball without a bodyguard
Learn to move or get hit with the John Gotti charge
I pray you niggas never lose a minute to a cell
Or lose your manhood in a yard, painted nails
Fairy tales of pretty bitches livin' prosperous
Your text is quoted, dead bodies never bothered us
At the park was a thing, but we skipped the swing
Very place I first seen my first triple beam
Dirty game, pillow talkin' witcha mayne
Giver her dope dick and all the things that she would say
She the one that put me up on Netflix
At the concerts I keep her on the guest list
Freaky things, sex scenes, a bowl of ice cream
My advice to her is time to trade to my team

Dope boy, dope car, I got the dope dick
Dope dick, the bitches love me for the dope dick
Dope dick, I f*ck her slow with the dope dick
Slow dick, dope dick, I got the dope dick
Tell her friends she wanna watch you get the dope dick
Black bottles, late night givin' you dope dick

100 room mansions, I paid all of the tax
No shots, but I write all of my raps
3 pointer, Harold Miner when I lean on yah
Post means I got the toaster and the beam on yah
Broken holes the size of a token and the barrels to smoke yah
Know it's home invasion cause his front door is still open
When I give you game, niggas better pay attention
I'm the big homie on these missions, little niggas listen
Survived the drive by but they gave you the shakes
Know you tellin', nigga, they played us the tapes
Screamin' Maybach but I came in the Wraith
Put you in the casket, now stay in your place
Where I'm from gangbang is a thing of the past
Only thing matter if you black, you getting some cash
If the groupie f*ckin', then give her a pass
When she lookin' for instructions, I give her a class

Dope boy, dope car, I got the dope dick
Dope dick, the bitches love me for the dope dick
Dope dick, I f*ck her slow with the dope dick
Slow dick, dope dick, I got the dope dick
Tell her friends she wanna watch you get the dope dick
Black bottles, late night givin' you dope dick

Out in Philly I got Courtney off in the Bentley with me
Niggas hatin' on her [?] I hear other opinions
Well educated and she got the strap
On the road to riches, bitch I can rewrite the map
Still stuffin' money in a minivan
200 acres, goofy I just built the Disneyland
Get Rich or Die Tryin', yeah that was 50 plan
Filed the chapter 11, guess the nigga kidneys failed
Bitch so bad, she in a bidding war
If she needed bone marrow, I woulda did it for her
Went from slice and dice pineapple and ice pear
Addicted to this way of life, never have any care

Dope boy, dope car, I got the dope dick
Dope dick, the bitches love me for the dope dick
Dope dick, I f*ck her slow with the dope dick
Slow dick, dope dick, I got the dope dick
Tell her friends she wanna watch you get the dope dick
Black bottles, late night givin' you dope dick

I can't come to your crib unless you got that Netflix account baby. (dope dick) Add that 10 piece lemon pepper on flat waiting for a young rich nigga, (dope dick) make sure valet know who it is. (dope dick) I hate to have you give valet that talk, ya heard me. (dope dick) Pistol under the mink mats. One staying with me, (dope dick) 2 for 2. 2 door, 4 door (dope dick) That's when I'm gonna give it to her, ya heard me (dope dick) I ain't playin no games, (dope dick) real nigga, real hustler. She wanna sit it on my face huh, (dope dick) I'm gonna bust....with that though. (dope dick) I'm gonna give you this dope dick. I got you hooked. I got your mind, your body, your soul. You love me baby, you love me baby
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ALLAN FELDER, BUNNY SIGLER, NORMAN HARRIS, RICK ROSS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, CARLIN AMERICA INC




Crocodile Python

Closest ones to me want to see me in a box
Is it jealousy or am I cursed by the gods
My son's mother don't know when or where to start
All the years that I known her, trick never had a job
Unemployed that'll get a bitch depressed
But unlike them other, boys she watched me kill 'em with finesse
I took a turn pussy boy, pick up a book and learn
Have your ass in a church before I end the verse
Rims on the whip got it looking hypnotic
Stuffing money in my pockets as you niggas watching
Crocodile python, all my ice on
And ain't nobody f*cking with me while the mics on
She so ecstatic when I f*ck her with the lights on
I feel the same when my niggas send the kites home

[Hook:]
Damn, why they want to stick me for my paper?
They want the deeds to my fruit of labor
Every time I turn around
Lawsuits put a lean on a king crown
Ten million was the last check
Devil on the deal, the nigga death in debt
They want to own every thing I own
They sends drones to survey my home
Suits designed to protect my wealth
Bloody Glock 40 to protect myself

Cubans on my neck looking like a python
On the couches I'm the one they got their eyes on
Skip your name, now they want to know your tax bracket
Tell 'em that you with me and the pussy's automatic
I paid dues in these streets
I gave so much I got nothing to lose in these streets
Family asked me am I in Illuminati
Beat twenty cases like John Gotti
White man fear a nigga with a free mind
And if you disagree tell him that he can free mine
Took my Rolex and gave me an ankle monitor
So many angles these haters'll start popping up
Renounced my citizen and move to Singapore
Couple tax breaks all accounts offshore

[Hook:]
Damn, why they want to stick me for my paper?
They want the deeds to my fruit of labor
Every time I turn around
Lawsuits put a lean on a king crown
Ten million was the last check
Devil on the deal, the nigga death in debt
They want to own every thing I own
They sends drones to survey my home
Suits designed to protect my wealth
Bloody Glock 40 to protect myself

She fell in love with the flow, such a beautiful stroke
Fascinated allegation kilo grams of that coke
Roll with 25 and never knew his social number
Mac-11 for that Gucci belt to go up under
Black man's pride, see it in my eyes
Fayette county prosecutor want to take a nigga house
So much disdain for the police
Clan rally niggas swing from them old trees
Wood wheel in the Wraith and the skinny ties
Crocodile python seats and the carbon fiber
Hot boy, stash box. and the gas tank
Man of leisure to the top I took the staircase

[Hook:]
Damn, why they want to stick me for my paper?
They want the deeds to my fruit of labor
Every time I turn around
Lawsuits put a lean on a king crown
Ten million was the last check
Devil on the deal, the nigga death in debt
They want to own every thing I own
They sends drones to survey my home
Suits designed to protect my wealth
Bloody Glock 40 to protect myself
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: William Leonards Roberts, Burt Bacharach, Hal David, Osten Harvey, Markeith Anthony Reid, Jahlil Orlando Tucker, Christopher Wallace
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., GREAT SOUTH BAY MUSIC GROUP INC




Ghostwriter

Fat boy behind a lot of your favorite flows man
Pay attention

Ghost writer blunt lighter
Write a rapper's song then go buy a home
Lyrics they recite these are words I own
Every album that I made I did it on my own
Melodies that I would barter any label the starter
Any nigga with cheddar I bet I can make it better
Wanna live the life so they gotta pay the fee
Last ten years everybody came to me
Politicians propositions bottom bitches washing dishes
No auditions for these bitches many scriptures we've written
Came from the mud I use to piss in the tub
If you never felt love then I considered you blood
Charging for the verses, I'll throw in the chorus
Slip-N-Slide f*cked me friendship was aborted
Publishing was something I would have to earn back
So I wrote so many songs I would deserve that
In return I wrote them things that were all to the world
'Cause they were some names many names
That's my word to confirm
That's my word to confirm
That's my word to confirm

It gets so lonely at the top
It gets so lonely at the top
I get so lonely at the top
I get so lonely at the top
I get so lonely at the top
I get so lonely at the top
It be so lonely at the top
It be so lonely at the top
I be so lonely at the top
I be so lonely at the top
I be so lonely at the top
I be so lonely at the top

Fell in love with the travel carry ons and what have you
If a nigga came at you then he was trying to pat you
Ghostwriter put a check on a niggas head
You never knew all at the table cause he hid his hand
Remember receiving words of wisdom from Jimmy Henchman
I lit a blunt in his honor when he received his sentence
So many successful entertainers with tax problems
DMX went homeless and heard he back robbing
Rosay won't be a old nigga with back problems
In the back of the Maybach with black Tanya
I went out the (?)
Where I kick it with (?)
Met (?) for the first, all the things I could say

It gets so lonely at the top
It gets so lonely at the top
I get so lonely at the top
I get so lonely at the top
I be so lonely at the top
I be so lonely at the top

My ego's intact, my pen is unique
Any pressure we come with sticks like they do at Philippe's
God gave me a gift therefore I shared it with them
Ghostwriter publisher such a beautiful friend
We give them the slang we lease them the swag
Tell them where they can hang tell them what they should wear
Cheers to hustlers, bitches who wanna f*ck us
Ghostwriter never knowing they coming to touch us
My team in fatigues diamonds drip to my knees
Mike Caren a leach you'll all be deceased
Culture is mine these words I define
If you need you a hit I could give you some lines
I could pick you the beat I should write you the hook
You just sit back and smoke, all royalties took
All royalties took
All royalties took

It gets so lonely at the top
It gets so lonely at the top
I get so lonely at the top
I get so lonely at the top
I get so lonely at the top
I get so lonely at the top
It be so lonely at the top
It be so lonely at the top
I be so lonely at the top
I be so lonely at the top
I be so lonely at the top
I be so lonely at the top
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Dwayne Leon Richardson, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Black Opium

[The Crowd & Rick Ross:]
Can I get a rozay (rozay)
Can I get a rozay (rozay)
Let me get a huh (huh)
Let me get a huh (huh)
Huh

[DJ Premier:]
I do this for us
Stuck on the grind tryna' elevate
I'mma stand as a man never above ya

[Rick Ross:]
Shooters in crowd with 50 carats, they give 'em dab
My livestyle get busy, you niggas really rare
Put my bitches on, get money, stay out the trap
F*ck 'em long, smoke a bong maybe go get a tat
No illusion, quarter millie for this whip I'm cruzin
Caught a deal up a plane with Hov and I kept it movin
Mob ties, (Send a re-up[?]), protect me from these shooters
Nice suits, so religious, these muthaf*ckers ruthless
Blond broads, Cuban cigars, shit I get the true
(Lovely suit[?]), VIP, double M.C are truth
Cap guns, Stab wounds, they think we're having fun
Doing shows, f*cking hoes, Gunplay's still on the run

[DJ Premier:]
I do this for us
Stuck on the grind tryna elevate
I'mma stand as a man never above ya

[Rick Ross:]
Some niggas choke, some niggas don't
Pissin in portable potties out at the public school
Late to class, walk the halls then wanna run with tools
Say your name, what's your gang, my people wrote the rule
4th of July, light up the sky, step on my shoes
All I do is feed eat?, niggas and they call it food
That's my fool?, I assume you know he's in the room
You hear the boom, soul floating like a balloon
Fatal wound, if war niggas yell "I played the rules"
A lot of goons, cocaine bitches consume
Still fill the room; King of Diamond, go get the broom
Dreamchasers you f*ck with Meek, you gotta f*ck with Combs
They're my Poon?
They're DC, carve it in my tomb

[DJ Premier:]
I do this for us
Stuck on the grind tryna elevate
Stuck on the grind tryna elevate
I'mma stand as a man never above ya
I'mma stand as a man never above ya

[Rick Ross:]
I only take time out for all my bad bitches
Ex-bitches, my last bitch was far from average
Fast whips, G wagon that's horse and carriage
Marriage is not for me I'm rich and careless
Ex-ex relax under my mattres
40 blocks of white, it Marshall matters
8 mile, a while my shit was stagnant
Seven fifties do '8' figures, young nigga at it
Ho wow, ho now, they think it's magic
I bring the best out your bitch, she livin lavish
Mink drapes, prince cape is on my [?],
the parallel twig[?] of a Caroling

[DJ Premier:]
I do this for us
Stuck on the grind tryna elevate
I'mma stand as a man never above ya
I do this for us
I, I, I do this for us
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: WILLIAM LEWIS, ALESSANDRO ALESSANDRONI, LEROY JONES, TREVOR SMITH, RICARDO THOMAS, ROGER MCNAIR, RICK ROSS, BYRON FOREST
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., JELLYBEAN MUSIC GROUP




Cant Say No

[Hook - Mariah Carey:]
Even though I try, I can't let go
Thoughts of you and I still kill me slow
And every night I feel you in my dreams
You're all I know, I can't let go

Guilty pleasures late night, I call it innocent
Hear you play a lot of games, a couple instruments
Snapchat whores and I got her role playing
She got her own man, tell him that your phone dead
Hustle is a code ain't no limit to this dope
Invest time pen rhymes now I got it so boss
Invest into a weak woman one becomes weak
Reflection of the man truly I'm a born king
Rose from the sewers while you was in the subs
Coach show love first class now that's us
Spilling champagne you should see the smile on us
Congratulations from the ones who tried to style on us

[Hook - Mariah Carey:]
Even though I try, I can't let go
Thoughts of you and I still kill me slow
And every night I feel you in my dreams
You're all I know, I can't let you go

Yes I'm single and wealthy, if you freaky then tell me
Never run from your past still photobombing your selfie
Was we ready for this move really honestly
Did you ever have the tools to really honor me
Well I fell in love and I had a great time
Now I'm back out on the streets no more face times
For the have nots I could've been a mascot
A limit timid with these women on my cash route
Counting paper in the ghetto underneath my rag top
Money come and go exception is my stash spot
Black bag black dollar on the black market
Mariah Carey, Renzel, trending topic

[Hook - Mariah Carey:]
Even though I try, I can't let go
Thoughts of you and I still kill me slow
And every night I feel you in my dreams
You're all I know, I can't let you go
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: WILLIAM ROBERTS, MARIAH CAREY, WALTER AFANASIEFF, JONATHAN ROTEM
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Peace Sign

[Hook - Jeremih:]
Hey girl, lemme tell you a little story 'bout this thing called f*cking
Hey girl, lemme tell you a little story 'bout this thing called f*cking
Lay you on your back, got your legs in the air like a peace sign
Lay you on your back, got your legs wide open like a peace sign
We can make it nasty, shake your head like Cassie
I be counting this money
You can get freaky while I'm rolling my Cali

Fornication in the Fountain Blu
4 or 5 of them bitches couldn't amount to you
I could spend it all, then spend a night with you
But I got too much of it, I'm just a flight away
She a baller, we both shopping for the same brands
Bail hard but theyall call up 'bout our first name
I'ma change the bitch last name
Don't wanna hear stories about your last lane
We sippin' syrup in the fast lane
[?] miles than your prom date
I seen a brick in the 9th grade
Swerve up on a bitch and I might say

[Hook - Jeremih:]
Hey girl, lemme tell you a little story 'bout this thing called f*cking
Hey girl, lemme tell you a little story 'bout this thing called f*cking
Lay you on your back, got your legs in the air like a peace sign
Lay you on your back, got your legs wide open like a peace sign
We can make it nasty, shake your head like Cassie
I be counting this money
You can get freaky while I'm rolling my Cali

We turn into the book of thugs
Slip and slide in the kitchen while you cooking up
I eat your pussy, why your legs up
Front to back, side to side, then I blow all in your butt
She say my life is like a true crime
One time for [?] that nigga still ridin'
So I f*ck her like I'm locked up
For every young soldier that's boxed up
Home boy snake straight f*ck nigga
Then it's time to cut him off, you can't f*ck with him
These bitches like a gift to me
So I love the pussy that she gives to me

[Hook - Jeremih:]
Hey girl, lemme tell you a little story 'bout this thing called f*cking
Hey girl, lemme tell you a little story 'bout this thing called f*cking
Lay you on your back, got your legs in the air like a peace sign
Lay you on your back, got your legs wide open like a peace sign
We can make it nasty, shake your head like Cassie
I be counting this money
You can get freaky while I'm rolling my Cali
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: WILLIAM ROBERTS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Very Best

[Mary J. Blige:]
You only get one life
That's enough if you do it right
Opinions don't phase me
Your hate ain't gonna change me, no
But I ain't gotta explain myself to nobody

[Rick Ross:]
The swag non-stop, the paper won't quit
Yet it's fly nigga, how she wanna skate on my dick
The all black drapes, hollow wall full of safes
My gas on fleek, jet fuel for the weak
These niggas wanna tweet, my niggas wanna eat
Down south dope boy, D-boy, nigga eat
All red Yeezy's, women who be on TV
[?] on the marble, only down
Tellin' jokes, blowin' smoke, defining [?] are the chokes
Fine dishes, pretty bitches on our ghost [?]
I'm tipping through on my shorty, eyes look Tiffany blue
Methodous flows killing these niggas, christians approved
Very wild, no photos, these niggas rarely smile
Only problem is staying low on the paper [?]
Scared to come to town, really?
How you niggas sound
I get my bitch to come pick you up, just to gun you down

[Mary J. Blige:]
You only get one life
That's enough if you do it right
Opinions don't phase me
Your hate ain't gonna change me, no
But I ain't gotta explain myself to nobody

[Rick Ross:]
Fame is a flaw, I give the game to you raw
Number one in the south, she can see that from afar
She can tell by the car, double R on the plate
Rolls Royce over those black market bumping in the rave
Bitch nigga with poor taste, starve while y'all ate
I put my niggas on, they got 20 more on the weight
We all gotta die so that's double M to the day
I know the devil try so I get on my knees and pray
Jesus still walks, we marchin' in a parade
Black and white holding hands
While letting that thing blaze
Pistol on my waist, I can feel a police chase
Homie cutting crack like home made cheese cake
I get right, I get it right, I double back, I get it right
We make mistakes, but baby now is the time to get it right
I see you on that Jeep, but really what you living like

[Mary J. Blige:]
You only get one life
That's enough if you do it right
Opinions don't phase me
Your hate ain't gonna change me, no
But I ain't gotta explain myself to nobody

[Rick Ross:]
My heart nickle plated, these haters they all hating
Hate to see me smile, hate to know I made it
Hate to see me toast with my niggas, I'm motivated
Hate to see me with these women at these publications
I still get it poppin', let me get them keys
I still do the proper, do the BET's
I still roll it proper, let my niggas feast
Still in that 'rarri blowing hella breeze

[Mary J. Blige:]
I'm doing big things, I got big dreams
Move out of my way, if you ain't for me
Feel like a winter, I put in work
So many years, man I deserve to be celebrated on every level
If you can't take it, that's your problem
I'm gonna thrive, I'm gonna shine
I'm gonna live my life

[Mary J. Blige:]
You only get one life
That's enough if you do it right
Opinions don't phase me
Your hate ain't gonna change me, no
But I ain't gotta explain myself to nobody
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: William Roberts, Robert James, Mary J. Blige, Earl Johnson, Atia Boggs
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management




Sorry

[Chris Brown:]
She's just perfect in every kinda way
But I don't think I can handle her pain
So messed up and I'm too busy just running my game
Oh, girl after girl, mistake after mistake
I tried to change but they always around, pulling me down in bed
Gave you my word but they were just broken promises
Broken condoms, lipstick marks and unprotected sex
I feel like shit, you know I ain't shit

[Chris Brown:]
Sorry, don't turn back the clock
Baby I took advantage cause I knew you
Wouldn't believe it, so I used you
I'm sorry, oh I'm sorry don't make it right, I know

[Rick Ross:]
We at the crib, she got her legs wrapped around my waist
Conversation, she lick every tattoo that's on my face
Like a thug, I just wanna f*ck on it, that's every day
Temporary separations, confessing my mistakes
She packed her bags and left me home and I'm still hurt
You knew shit, but she can't tell me that it's real first
A lot of lies apologised, the thirst real
When she hit this thinking to herself, "Damn this verse real"
Read about it Vegas, I made this with Merc
Send the bottles to her table then made love on the jet
Temporary thrills, all these women you think I told you
My feelings genuine, disregard what you see on blogs
I been a boss before I ever recorded Meek song
Mill and Cash on the gram, they trending meat chong
In the D in my G and he throwing that peace on
Every picture that you post we comment for this one

[Chris Brown:]
I'm just a typical ordinary nigga
But I know that I can't change for you
All this time I blamed you cause I know what I'm doing
Stabbing on your heart again, relationship ruined
I tried to change but I'm always out, f*cking around in the club
Pieces of my love letter tore up from this break up
My worst nightmare went right in my back, I wish I could wake up
I feel like shit, know I ain't shit but I'm

[Chris Brown:]
Sorry, don't turn back the clock
Baby I took advantage cause I knew you
Wouldn't believe it, so I used you
I'm sorry, oh I'm sorry don't make it right, I know

[Rick Ross:]
Like Jordan, baby girl you deserve a winner
Every day the diamonds on you get bigger and bigger
Hustle from my heart so every night I can deliver
Saying sorry, lean up, way up in your liver
Boss, the red bottom's got you walking funny
Get you an agent, she balling and all she talk is money
Take you shopping, baby boy ain't no salary caps
She get it popping so you better bring battery packs
Perfect time to relax
Nothing is perfect other than me and the perfect match
They all watch me cause the moves I make out they budget
Diamond digits, six figures on my shorty nugget

[Chris Brown:]
I tried to change but they always around, pulling me down in bed
Gave you my word but they were just broken promises
Broken condoms, lipstick marks and unprotected sex
I feel like shit, you know I ain't shit
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHRISTOPHER MAURICE BROWN, BRANDON WILLIAM ROBERTS, DIEGO JAVIER AVENDANO, SCOTT SPENCER STORCH
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




D.O.P.E.

[Future:]
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope
Bag full of percs, cup full of syrup
Run up get murked
I got time on my wrist and it's an Audemar
I just spent ten bricks on a foreign car

[Rick Ross:]
I got rugs by the dope, Versace on the floor
Chest full of ink, pussy on the sink
My safe full of stones, my phone's always on
When my eyes start to roll, you know I'm in the zone
Rubber bands on the five, r-rubber band on the ten
Gave a bitch all the dubs, hundred grand on the Benz
Got a truck full of dope, plug on the coke
Renzel done came up, prosecutors want to know
Is everything dope? Is everything dope?
How does everything go?
And why does every body know?
How does every body know?
Why does every body know?

[Future:]
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope
Bag full of percs, cup full of syrup
Run up get murked
I got time on my wrist and it's an Audemar
I just spent ten bricks on a foreign car

[Future:]
Pinky ring got dope on it
Sipping lean keep dope on me
Switching lanes like them folks on me
Twenty chains got dope on me
VVS's that's dope on me
Fell in love with the dope angle
Pyrex got good work in it
Minute Maid put syrup in it
Got a mermaid dripping Hermes
Popping pills in the early
Her head game so geeked up
I'm making money got me Geechi
My rolex on Geechi
Presidentials on Geechi
See my whips they Geechi
Roll up Back's they Geechi
Racks on racks they Geechi
And my whole hood Geechi
Let's get intoxicated, oh let's get intoxicated
Niggas are mad we made it
Look at them niggas they mad we made it

[Future:]
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope
Bag full of percs, cup full of syrup
Run up get murked
I got time on my wrist and it's an Audemar
I just spent ten bricks on a foreign car

[Rick Ross:]
Fed's at the door, I done flushed all the dope
I done run out the back, breakfast on the stove
I'm a ancient nigga, f*cking the same bitch nigga
Only one small difference, I'm a straight rich nigga
We bury money in the fields
Mansions in the hill
Strippers at the crib, this how I live
Always wanna smoke, always on the go
They always on my page, waiting for the next post
Feds wanna know, they just wanna know
Is it really dope? Is it really dope?
All this shit can't be his, this can't be real
Shawty ass so fine that can't be real

[Future:]
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope, everything dope
Everything dope
Bag full of percs, cup full of syrup
Run up get murked
I got time on my wrist and it's an Audemar
I just spent ten bricks on a foreign car
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: NAYVADIUS WILBURN, KIRSNICK KHARI BALL, JERMAINE DENNY, KIARI KENDRELL CEPHUS, QUAVIOUS KEYATE MARSHALL, DON PASCHALL, WILLIAM LEONARD ROBERTS
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, THE ADMINISTRATION MP INC




Foreclosures

There's so many things that I don't understand.
Sometimes, being in the position I am, with no malicious intent, my nigga, you can take it how you want it.
I see it from both sides, I feel a nigga pain

Learn to walk a tightrope
Ever seen a rich nigga go broke?
They putting liens on a nigga's things
Publicize your demise, and by all means
Your family fortune is forever what you stood on
Sold dreams, fantasies that put the hood on
You reap what you sow, and they speaking repossessions
To the culture itself, these are powerful lessons
These niggas always smiled when I came around
They let you know my reputation when you in my town
A real nigga, you gonna know that by the contract
Bottom line blood, show me where them one's at
That paper it get funny when publishing is involved
Mechanicals never mattered because that was your dog
Now you hands-on, but things don't ever seem right
You make a call to give your lawyer the green-light
He look into it then hit you up with the bad news
It's so familiar, he did the same with the last dudes
Mafioso, baby girl, cash rules
Every dollar accounted for, double M the crew

Death Row, fast life
Foreclosed on my past life
The white man call us stupid niggas
We spend it all, nothing for our children
Had it all, now it's repossessed
Can't feed the clique cutting bad checks
Time to learn boy, that Cash Rules
Success is a precious jewel

Planting poison in a nigga mind
Chilling with your boys when it's time to grind
We both come from those humble beginnings
Still can't believe we never followed each other on Twitter
Funny thing is the animosity money brings
Real niggas out of style we may be one in three
Back against the wall outnumbered by f*ckboys
One bullet, one target, one choice
You can take an L or take the shell
It's still double M we making mills
Made niggas respect my hustle on both coasts
I put the word out to see who hit back with the lowest
I need a hit handled, put me in touch with the closest
You still digging through ashtrays killing the roaches
And I never took an L back when Meek fell
Just drove the numbers all the way back up at retail

Death Row, fast life
Foreclosed on my past life
The white man call us stupid niggas
We spend it all, nothing for our children
Had it all, now it's repossessed
Can't feed the clique cutting bad checks
Time to learn boy, that Cash Rules
Success is a precious jewel

Can't be writing checks with your eyes closed
While you living out of homes in different time zones
Mind blown finna strip you out your rhinestones
Pistol to your ear, this that level I'm on
I apologize woadie but this all I got
Everybody in this office we could die tonight
I never met an artist who fully recouped
These the deals the deal dealers wanna deal to you
Young niggas, time to act your age
Buying belts you seen on other niggas waists
Hoes f*cking for follows, they wanna post online
Whole time, shorty knowing I'm the gold mine
Put it on all he needed was a co sign
Black minks and gloves, nigga, the whole nine
TV on the Rolls, shit, I had to hold mine
You'll foreclose or fold just for soul signs

Death Row, fast life
Foreclosed on my past life
The white man call us stupid niggas
We spend it all, nothing for our children
Had it all, now it's repossessed
Can't feed the clique cutting bad checks
Time to learn boy, that Cash Rules
Success is a precious jewel

Success is a precious jewel
Success is a precious jewel
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ERIK ORTIZ, KEVIN CROWE, KENNETH BARTOLOMEI, WILLIAM ROBERTS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Money Dance

Ma, hey give me a black bottle
I can't dance good but I'mma dance tonight, you hear me?
Baby just don't step on my feet, nigga toes hurting
Uh, uh

Funny to see a ghetto nigga so classy
Enchanted by women who speak nasty
Tip toeing to court, went there for the past week
Leaning on my lawyer pinky looking glassy
Charges dropped, these plaintiffs just wanna tax me
Secret service wanna see me driving taxis
Hug my attorney and then we do the money dance
Whitey Bulge' your horse, soldier leaving Vietnam
Pledge allegiance to the flag
Where we keep it 100 and get your money back
Pull a plug, brain dead, dope game nigga
Knew the rolls was fake and so we brought the real with us
Repertoire hustle such a tenacity
High roller, bet us another masterpiece
More Rakim then maybe Master P
Crazy nigga paid in full I'm tryna buy the beach

Caution, I'll approach you with a business mind
Slight two step as I check the time
Rub my hands when my palms itch
50 in the bank diamonds looking flawless
This the sway of a rich nigga
Praying for the day my nigga seeing 6 figures
Black bottles popping when I'm on the turf
Two private Jets what this nigga's worth

[The-Dream:]
No girl under ten
No whip under a hundred grand
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Man I make this money dance
I criss cross, she sun tans
Propellers out the window over our lands
Where I land
Girl we make that money dance

Top Forbes, poor formal education
Top floors, cop rooms on reservations
Gold in my grave, half a ticket in my coupe
Ex cheerleader flipping now this nigga truth
Money piles have got me out on Sunny Ave
Black with me everywhere I go he'll gun you down
Full clips, magazines yeah the Forbes list
If this all for nickle recount it, it's bullsht
But when they right we do the money dance
Fly nigga my nigga Randall Cunningham
When she hear the slang then she know the name
Italian coupes for the suits I spend it on the chain
Pool so long we should take a swim
I like that ass fat, I can spread it thin
I wanna see your friends come do the money dance
Black bottle boys, we got these bitches holding hands

Caution, I'll approach you with a business mind
Slight two step as I check the time
Rub my hands when my palms itch
50 in the bank diamonds looking flawless
This the sway of a rich nigga
Praying for the day my nigga seeing 6 figures
Black bottles popping when I'm on the turf
Two private Jets what this nigga's worth

[The-Dream:]
No girl under ten
No whip under a hundred grand
Man I make this money dance
I criss cross, she sun tans
Propellers out the window over our lands
Where I land
Girl we make that money dance

[The Dream & Rick Ross:]
Dance, dance, dance, dance
Dance, dance, dance
Come on y'all yeah you know we got it
Dance, dance, dance, dance
Dance, dance, dance, dance
Uh, I feel wonderful, how about yourself?
You rolling with the real niggas you know we got it

As the world turn and the weed twist
Flew a hundred niggas to Veil on a ski trip
Put away the dope we can see the slopes
We built this shit together why it mean the most
Head on collision somehow I walk away
Give you music for free recouping with the yay
You're rocking with the bowtie Don
In god we trust, I bust and post bond
In the hood we the Run-DMCs
Best quotes and wrote we don't need
Death Row on foul like Cool C
Big flossy the bitches like "who's he?"
The corvette was a beast I had to lease
Six months then we're free to holler, "peace"
Dead wrong my nigga, Miami river cops
Leave you floating, hope you getting them ten a pop

Caution, I'll approach you with a business mind
Slight two step as I check the time
Rub my hands when my palms itch
50 in the bank diamonds looking flawless
This the sway of a rich nigga
Praying for the day my nigga seeing 6 figures
Black bottles popping when I'm on the turf
Two private Jets what this nigga's worth

[The-Dream:]
Atlanta, Miami, Rosé
We like 2Pac infante
They sent my nigga on house arrest
I'm coming through niggas they ain't stopping this
I bring the beach to the front door
All bitches out the pool we need to park the boat
Turn South Georgia to Florida
And turn the rest over to the lawyers
Cause we ain't tryna hurt nobody
Just tryna bring life to the party
If I ain't change you mind think whatever
One thing you can't change is I changed the weather
And this my Rockafella flow
And you just on hella dope, I'm hella dope
This for real niggas with Maybachs
All debts forgiven this is the payback

Yea, see what I did right there?
I just made that money dance
Hah, oh shit, Ross
(Dance, dance, dance, dance)
And we live from Atlanta, Georgia nigga
(Dance, dance, dance, dance)
Yeah, yeah, see you on the other side
(Dance, dance, dance, dance)
(Dance, dance, dance, dance)
(Dance, dance, dance, dance)
(Dance, dance, dance, dance)
(Dance, dance, dance, dance)
(Dance, dance, dance, dance)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHRISTOPHER THORNTON, DIONDRIA THORNTON, JACOB DUTTON, LARRY GRIFFIN, TERIUS NASH, WILLIAM ROBERTS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management




Carol City

Word to the pusher, nigga never kept a job
Boobie gave me game
We used to sell dope and rob
I left a stain off in Carol City
My last name should be Carol City
Used to sell dope just to feed the fam
Max box jumping with the kilograms
I feel your pain if you from Carol City
My last name should be Carol City

Black Dollar, I wanna buy a house on every block
Build one bigger than Dolphin Stadium, young nigga watch
Captain Crabs AK shells, living your aftermath
Ain't no love, get your money or get a body bag
Hammers and vogues, There's lord
River City let the son ride clean for the deadliest hoes
Gotta represent, nigga so meet me at the minute
And if you living how I'm living, stay behind the tenant
Marble floors mink rugs and got the gold faucets
Be cautious, well known to take the weak hostage
U.S Marshalls on the way and they cut open the gates
Know we going to trial by the look on my face

Word to the pusher, nigga never kept a job
Boobie gave me game
We used to sell dope and rob
I left a stain off in Carol City
My last name should be Carol City
Used to sell dope just to feed the fam
Max box jumping with the kilograms
I feel your pain if you from Carol City
My last name should be Carol City

Fake niggas found face down in abandoned buildings
Picture pennies, fair cases get you
A lengthy sentence
Niggas snitching, bitches switching is what I seen the most
Three 0-5, but Carol City got the cleanest coke
Match box, projects, I gave my point of view
Bomb man, two lieutenant I was appointed to
60 thousand in nickle rocks outside the silver fox
Duval County to Virginia , my pockets 'bout to pop
Move 'em hoe, mind your business, therefore nobody told
And when they did they come and get you, seen you up the road
We met his kids fishing on the bridge
Ten years later, bumped into him, he threw me a brick

Word to the pusher, nigga never kept a job
Boobie gave me game
We used to sell dope and rob
I left a stain off in Carol City
My last name should be Carol City
Used to sell dope just to feed the fam
Max box jumping with the kilograms
I feel your pain if you from Carol City
My last name should be Carol City

Walking home from school, always was quick to jump a nigga
Third day on school, they knew I was a thumper nigga
My lil hitta doing 4 he caught a gun charge
Rolling bumpkin backwoods they outta bush park
Position yourself, it's timing that's coming to the end
Caught him slippin', at Simons he tried to get a fit'
It's either
Or baby boy, you can meet the lord
I pray we meet again, maybe we be on one accord
Walking through the flea market
Bouncing like I hit a lick
Going open, the record label just to go legit
Had to car cash on 27th was a pastime
Pay for 60 keys, all at once just like the last time

Word to the pusher, nigga never kept a job
Boobie gave me game
We used to sell dope and rob
I left a stain off in Carol City
My last name should be Carol City
Used to sell dope just to feed the fam
Max box jumping with the kilograms
I feel your pain if you from Carol City
My last name should be Carol City
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: WILLIAM ROBERTS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, PUSHING KEYS MUSIC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Back to: Rick Ross


Black Market is the eighth studio album by American rapper Rick Ross. The album was released on December 4, 2015, by Maybach Music Group and Def Jam Recordings.

The album features guest appearances from John Legend, CeeLo Green, Nas, DJ Premier, Mariah Carey, Mary J. Blige, Chris Brown, Future and The-Dream.
Performed By: Rick Ross
Genre(s): Hip hop
Released: December 4th, 2015
Year: 2015

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