Rick Ross — Pots and Pans

[Intro: Rick Ross] This what I'm talkin' 'bout right here Ross Just make the shit work a while, my nigga Triple C's [Chorus: J-Rock] All I need is bakin' soda, some pots and pans Lil' ice up ,what I can Chick at home sayin' I'm no good Fuck that I'm gettin' out the hood All I need is bakin' soda, some pots and pans Lil' ice up what I can Chick at home sayin' I'm no good Fuck that I'm gettin' out the hood [Verse 1: Rick Ross] What started as a nickel rock Took 22 months, now I'm tryna get a block Fuck football, I'm goin' down another path Couldn't pass the test, to tell the truth I couldn't fuck with math I did get a scholarship, but I blew that Got high, got a ticket and I flew back To the hell zone, most straps stand 20 shell toes Get life on ya cell phone Quarter ki' box of soda, Ross whip that Career criminal fo' sho', Ross with that Had to pull my pants up, go and get 'em brands up Daddy died from cancer, I never had the chance to Tell him all my plans to, let em' fuck a dancer Smokin' weed in Amsterdam with his grandson Why he passed on me, my last homie I went and bought a bird I want some cash homie [Chorus: J-Rock] All I need is bakin' soda, some pots and pans Lil' ice up ,what I can Chick at home sayin' I'm no good Fuck that I'm gettin' out the hood All I need is bakin' soda, some pots and pans Lil' ice up what I can Chick at home sayin' I'm no good Fuck that I'm gettin' out the hood [Verse 2: Rick Ross] I never rode a nigga coat tail, made her took a dope sell Fuck it nigga, o wells, smokin' on that classified Rollin' in that Lac' of mine You know my mind stay numb to the world half the time Thinkin' 'bout Land Rover, damn near was fucked up Found him in the trunk with another dude, fucked up The world fucked up, that's why I'm fucked up Don't get fucked up, fuck with me, you fucked up Bitch I'mma ride, bitch I'mma die When I holla 3-0-5, bitch, that's on my life Got a 40 in the car, a choppa in the crib The grenades down the street, you gotta git it how you live (Triple C's) I know niggas turn 1 into 2 and they do what they do And boi 'em thangs move Fish scale get the big mail In the room full of work In case they came when they inhale [Chorus: J-Rock] All I need is bakin' soda, some pots and pans Lil' ice up ,what I can Chick at home sayin' I'm no good Fuck that I'm gettin' out the hood All I need is bakin' soda, some pots and pans Lil' ice up what I can Chick at home sayin' I'm no good Fuck that I'm gettin' out the hood [Verse 3: Rick Ross] It's time fo' me to cash in, laughin' Like Martin in Aston, Martin When I park it, I can see ya bitch heart-beat So roll out the red carpet, roll up the purple shit Black navigator flew Gotta shut ya fuckin' mouth, don't ever take the smooth Thinkin' of a greater way, to build a greater flow I hope she got some great head, that's how I grade a hoe White Beamer in the hood shinin' like a star Look this half a ki' go to the club and I'mma buy the bar Do it twice a week fuckin' bitches on the other nights Promise E-class we'll never miss another fight Hundred in the bag 5 birds I'mma grab Turn em' into 8, keep me a clean half Bakin' soda in the work works wonderful You see ya dreams come true cause I'm the truth [Chorus: J-Rock] All I need is bakin' soda, some pots and pans Lil' ice up ,what I can Chick at home sayin' I'm no good Fuck that I'm gettin' out the hood All I need is bakin' soda, some pots and pans Lil' ice up what I can Chick at home sayin' I'm no good Fuck that I'm gettin' out the hood