Drug Dealer's Dream Lyrics - Rick Ross

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(Verse)
Mighty Mohamed, son of Osama
Son of a bitch
One time for my mama
Tats on my back, tats on my face
I’m a don, can you relate?
It’s never too late
Maybach whip you lay
Never would say
Bang bang with the saints
Know I’m a sinner, now give me my sentence
Labeled a hustla, look at my Benz
One time for Black, one time for Nut
One time for Gucci, one time for Kano
One time for Dizzle
This my realest
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One time for Trav and all the drug dealers

(Hook)
Murda, a muthafuckin murda
No, you didn’t see it but I know you fuckin heard it
Blood on the counter, damn I miss my dawg
I’m just thinkin bout his daughter, in another life he ballin

(Verse)
Is this a drug dealer’s dream
Cus all I ever see is dimes on disease
Mansion on the water, home in the hills
Let the fed tell it, it really isn’t his
Photograph our endeavors, plottin potential setups
See the extra promotion
Tax charges, etcetera
Confiscated the whips, concentratin on flips
Contemplatin a trip, congregatin for bricks
Lord know I’m a sinner
Be more than the winter
Ignited the trash to make you a killer
Lord forgive these bitches
Getting they money strippin
Chasin this fast money, next time we do it different
Shout out to KOD, shout out to Onyx
Shout out to MMG, know we the hottest
Yea, yea
Yea

(Hook)
Murda, a muthafuckin murda
No, you didn’t see it but I know you fuckin heard it
Blood on the counter, damn I miss my dawg
I’m just thinkin bout his daughter, in another life he ballin

(Verse)
Aggravated work, this distracted all of my foes
Wannabe friends, we just takin control
Get vision the clearest, I get shooters on clearance
Better fit in a Lambo but did it for the appearance
I see the rich go to jail
He put Wi Fi in his cell
Middle of the night, my niggas wanna Skype
I just count money for him, next just get him high
They say it’s hard to smile with a double life
In the middle of the night with a bloody knife
Lord give em a chance, every man should be free
He wanted him a degree but got him a key
Open that door, just hopin for more
They gave him a bar, I gave him a Porsche
I gave him a name, I gave him a shot
I gave him the game, I gave him a block
Smoking on that gas, I be thinkin too fast
Drug dealers’ dream, now I just this cash
Boy tatted on my neck
A real nigga, boy I never write a check








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------ Performed by Rick Ross

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------ 09/16/2014

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