Boss

Run how you want, boss Chill how you want, boss Floss how you want, boss Do whatcha like Go rock your chain, boss Pour that champagne, boss Keep getting paid, boss Do Whatcha like Ross, la la, la la, la la Do Whatcha like Ross,la la, la la, la la Do Whatcha like As I'm poppin' my collar, black on black antique impala She ain't gotta speak cuz my speakers let her know that I'm ballin They call me the boss, I be calling the shots It's Ricky Ross, that boy be ballin alot That boy be ridin' big, that boy be ridin' rim's Not the flats but the fish cuz they just swim New York to the west, you a boss if you fresh Scuff your shoes, wipe em down Now get back on your two step Stunting is boss Shining is boss Grand daddy kush, or the purt, yellow diamonds is boss That dime a boss, She fine as a house And she driving a porche, She designed for a boss Run how you want, boss Chill how you want, boss Floss how you want, boss Do whatcha like Go rock your chain, boss Pour that champagne, boss Keep getting paid, boss Do Whatcha like Ross, la la, la la, la la Do Whatcha like Ross,la la, la la, la la Do Whatcha like I'm ridin' big, I'm hoping lanes My chevy thang, Got this chickens all insane Look at my stones tap dancing on the bezzle Bad baby at the rollie, lap dancing and wanna kiss me Oh no, cuz of my chain Cuz of my bling like a peacock standing on my ring Cuz I'm a boss, I'm a spend it I'm a floss, I'm a winner You the loss, all these niggas Sprinkle soft cuz im the pepper and the salt Whatcha feel, whatcha like Whatcha want, what's your type I done seen it, done it twice, bought it up the same night Cuz I'm a boss, its Ricky Ross If u buy, if u spend it, fuck the cost You's a boss, You a boss Run how you want, boss Chill how you want, boss Floss how you want, boss Do whatcha like Go rock your chain, boss Pour that champagne, boss Keep getting paid, boss Do Whatcha like Ross, la la, la la, la la Do Whatcha like Ross,la la, la la, la la Do Whatcha like Before the block got whipped And they Pistol got ripped Before u got any chips You got permission from the boss On a mission for the charts, out-smart my competition Composition so sharp, so dark ,so vivid 26's on the old school Pro tools session Got the old school ho's Acting brand new sweating Brand new tennis chain, fancy pockets on my jeans Headed for the walk dude, fore' they win him on the stage Two a day, super pay Stupid brain from a model Triple c a hundred deep And everybody got a bottle Got a bottle full of purp Full of work, no leachin' Blew 50 last weekend, if you looking for a reason I'm the boss Run how you want, boss Chill how you want, boss Floss how you want, boss Do whatcha like Go rock your chain, boss Pour that champagne, boss Keep getting paid, boss Do Whatcha like Ross, la la, la la, la la Do Whatcha like Ross,la la, la la, la la Do Whatcha like