Icewater, Rick Ross, Raekwon - I'm a Boss lyrics

Ricky Ross, Raekwon the Chef
Thrill 5 M-IA, yo
Ya'll know what time it is (trilla) boss

When I'm in the crib
(crib) , know what time it is (is)
I'm trying to get a mill
(mill) , so money I can feel (feel)
Fuck a bank account
(boss) keep my money in bags (bags)
If you coming here funny
I'm gunning your ass
Nigga, take a look at me, Ross
Tell me what's fucking funny (funny)
Bitch, I'm a top shotter
(shotter) , see all the macks, gunny
Now I'm the pacman, I keep the packs coming
And I got a whole lot
So when that shack coming, baby
I can hold mine, or I can pitch back
Or I can run an option, get it popping
Whip that all my Cuban links
Still rocking they Cuban Linx
And they ready to swim, give me the cuban six
I got it orchestrated, cuz I'm a communist
Running for the charms
Some left on the wrist
My nigga Raekwon, yeah, he the fucking Chef
So what we cook in the kitchen
He taste the fucking best

Nigga, I'm a boss
You can catch me with the top knocked off
In the trap, getting blocks knocked off
Cuz, nigga, I'm a boss
And I'mma show these niggas
I ain't gotta talk
I got a chaffeur, nigga, I ain't got to walk
Cuz, nigga, I'm a boss, cross the line
Pay the fine top cost
Lose your mind when the nine pop off
Cuz, nigga, I'm a boss, I'm a boss
I'm a boss
Cuz, nigga, I'm a boss, I'm a boss
I'm a boss

You know we rich, Rick, my
Vultures, they get dip, we posting
It's in motion, when that blow come
We flip-flip can't take us nowhere, pa
Too many spaceships
Lay in the open, new Nike's with glaciers
Love robbing niggas, cracking heads open
It's like tennis, pa
I'm like Venus with the legs smoking
Piping hot heroes, gun deleros, new Aston
Sky blue jammy, skating on zeros
Shorts on, tree lance, cable on
Hang to my navel
Diamond down, smoking cheeba, Grey Goose
Dreaming bout lasagna, the beat watery
Half glass of Whiskey
Fly light skin little shorty
All my bitches they bang, it's obvious
We be the Gods rep me and my mobster sang
We monsters, rocket launchers, razor blades
With wands on, shoot up the telly, go bonkers

Yo, I'm the money collector
(for that money I'll stretch ya)
I flat line you with that gun
That's up under my dresser
I be handling pies (god damn it I'm fly
It's so high
That if I jump I'll land in the sky)
You ain't pushing no weight You
A pussy you fake i be cooking that base
(Butter just look at they face)
Lite keep 'em coming back The Don
Keep 'em coming back
(It's the boss and Rick Ross
On the fucking track)