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Rick Ross – Itchin' lyrics
I’m excited right now, living life right now
Black bar mitzvah, shit is a party right now
It’s too easy right now, shout out to the conglomerate nigga
October 30, dreams and nightmares, that’s what’s all about
Meek millie, over a dozen whips
Y’all niggas get paper man
Few of my niggas multimillionaires already, no albums out
We run this shit, death jam records, salute
Warner brothers, salute, power circle
Should be blessed to be in our presence
I whip my hair round with milk
All my boxers be silk
You pussy niggas chill, we keep the city on tilt
I put on for my walls, down for my area code
We here to let you go to prison, gotta bury your dough
Respect that holly my nigga, yo we out here my niggas
You’re so high with my niggas…my nigga
I recite only lethal, yeah them label to pour it
I get high in the cathedral, and I feel so important
How I’m popping them bands, your man just won’t stop
I fucked them friends, came out on top
Then she wanted to bite and she named the spot
But me being the spot, I take her straight to wingstop
My fingers, they itchin’, they itchin’ for that paper
I ride around the city and I got that calculator
I’m a motherfucking monster when it come to getting that paper, hey!
Black bar mitzvah, shit is a party right now
It’s too easy right now, shout out to the conglomerate nigga
October 30, dreams and nightmares, that’s what’s all about
Meek millie, over a dozen whips
Y’all niggas get paper man
Few of my niggas multimillionaires already, no albums out
We run this shit, death jam records, salute
Warner brothers, salute, power circle
Should be blessed to be in our presence
I whip my hair round with milk
All my boxers be silk
You pussy niggas chill, we keep the city on tilt
I put on for my walls, down for my area code
We here to let you go to prison, gotta bury your dough
Respect that holly my nigga, yo we out here my niggas
You’re so high with my niggas…my nigga
I recite only lethal, yeah them label to pour it
I get high in the cathedral, and I feel so important
How I’m popping them bands, your man just won’t stop
I fucked them friends, came out on top
Then she wanted to bite and she named the spot
But me being the spot, I take her straight to wingstop
My fingers, they itchin’, they itchin’ for that paper
I ride around the city and I got that calculator
I’m a motherfucking monster when it come to getting that paper, hey!
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/r/rick_ross/itchin.html