Rick Ross Ft Styles P – B.M.F. (Blowin’ Money Fast) Lyrics

B.M.F. (Blowin’ Money Fast) Lyrics by Rick Ross Ft Styles P

[Produced by Lex Luger]

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Ugh
Ugh
We blowing money fast on this side, nigga
Catch up, nigga

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I think I’m Big Meech (Ugh), Larry Hoover
Whippin’ work, hallelujah
One nation under God
Real niggas gettin’ money from the fuckin’ start
I think I’m Big Meech (Woo), Larry Hoover (Woo)
Gettin’ work, hallelujah
One nation, under God
Real niggas gettin’ money from the fuckin’ start
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
My Rolls Royce triple-black, I’m Geechee, ho
Ballin’ in the club, bottles like I’m Meechie, ho
Rozay—that’s my nickname
Cocaine runnin’ in my big veins
Self-made, you just affiliated
I build it ground-up, you bought it renovated
Talkin’ plenty capers, nothing’s been authenticated
Funny, you claimin’ the same bitch that I’m penetrating
Hold the bottles up, where my comrades?
Where the fuckin’ felons? Where my dogs at?
(Ugh!) I got that Archie Bunker
And it’s so white, I just might charge you double

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I think I’m Big Meech (Ugh), Larry Hoover
Whippin’ work, hallelujah
One nation, under God
Real niggas gettin’ money from the fuckin’ start
I think I’m Big Meech (Woo), Larry Hoover (Woo)
Gettin’ work, hallelujah
One nation, under God
Real niggas gettin’ money from the fuckin’ start

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
These motherfuckers mad that I’m icy! (Boss)
Stunt so hard, make them come indict me (Ugh)
I think I’m Big Meech, look at my timepiece
It’s an Audem-eer, hundred racks, at least
Look at yourself, now look at me (Me!)
You can’t see a nigga, I’m what you used to be (Ha)
Look at it this way (Yeah), you niggas sideways (Sideways)
Always gettin’ money, my nigga, crime pays (Crime pays)
So fuck a nigga (Fuck a nigga), I’m self-made (Self-made)
You a sucker nigga (Sucker nigga), I’m self-paid (Self-paid)
This for my broke niggas (Broke niggas), this for my rich niggas (Rich niggas)
Got a hundred on a head of a snitch nigga (Ugh)

[Chorus: Rick Ross & Styles P]
I think I’m Big Meech, Larry Hoover
Whippin’ work, hallelujah
One nation, under God
Real niggas gettin’ money from the fuckin’ start
I think I’m Big Meech (Woo), Larry Hoover (Ross, what up?)
Gettin’ work, hallelujah (S.P. the Ghost)
One nation, under God (Y’all niggas know what it is)
Real niggas gettin’ money from the fuckin’ start (Let’s get it, my nigga, yeah)

[Verse 3: Styles P]
Them thirty-six holes leave you bleedin’, family (Bleedin’)
Word to them thirty-six O’s in a kilogram (Ha)
Blunt tip orange like caviar
Wildin’ out, fishtailin’, Subaru, rally car (Fishtailin’)
Out the passenger, lettin’ the automatty off (Let it off)
A eighth of that girl’ll knock your mommy and your daddy off (You know that!)
Fuck around and knock the emblem on the Caddy off (Fuck around)
Four shooters buggin’ out, blickin’ at your Caddy doors (Blick-outs)
And did I mention: guns from Red Dead Redemption? (Did I?)
Nine-mils, fifty-clip extensions (A long clip)
Coke is like a mattress in the hood: I’m flippin’ on it (I’m flippin’)
And the money’s like a chair: I’m sittin’ on it (Keep quiet, nigga)

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I think I’m Big Meech (Ugh), Larry Hoover
Whippin’ work, hallelujah
One nation, under God
Real niggas gettin’ money from the fuckin’ start
I think I’m Big Meech (Woo), Larry Hoover (Woo)
Gettin’ work, hallelujah
One nation, under God
Real niggas gettin’ money from the fuckin’ start
[Outro]
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