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'Sixteen' Lyrics - Rick Ross (Ft. Andre 3000)
Here is Sixteen Lyrics by Rick Ross Ft. Andre 3000
when 16 ain't enough..
it's funny niggas, it's been on my mind lately
having a dope beat, dope idea..
16 bars ain't enough!
how the fuck can i squeeze my whole life into a 16 bar verse?
so many different levels
i know y'all gonna feel me on this one..
it's funny how things change, funny how time fly
more than my feet drivin' me, more that i feel fly
more that i make now, the more that the chicks smile
she call me a local nigga, i opened a swiss account
eisenhower status etta james on the dash
john coltrane cruising in the cadillac seville
feel my life on the real
we the lost boys so this is a world premiere
rolling like mick jagger, the women just getting badder
all i see is the money, cream, eric clapton
and all i wanted was 1 16.. ain't enough
talking that fast money 15 every month
when people live poor, that motivated me more
everything i ever wore was once worn before
roll with the punches like it's box office numbers
dressed like sammy davis
steamin' my marijuana
double mmgs, double m keys
we in every hood, nigga: government cheese
yacht to yacht ? old dirty bastard
floor seat for the heat paper that i'm stackin
better put away a penny for the rainy days
? like scottie pippen
started with a scribble, now i'm flowing like a river
she say my heart cold i'm naming my son december
whitney died night before the grammys - damn, what a memory
trump towers and i started with a 10 speed
growing broke had to use a nigga's instincts
now i get a hundred racks for the 16
waking up to take you baking you're my thick queen
? i just watch it on the big screen
3 stacks on the feet and it fits me
16 ain't enough..
[andre 3k]
you know sometimes you got so much to say but...
*16 ain't enough*
they only give you 16, heh..
it's like.. you got so much to say
the world has said so much to me, i just wanna give right back to her
but.. i only get 16
i really can't say what i wanna say, you know it's just a glimpse
just a single glimpse
anyway, this is too much talkin'...
andre 3k:
summer '88, or was it '89
or was it winter-time
ah, nevermind
i'm in my room, boomin, drawin ll cool j album covers with crayolas on construction paper
i'm trying to fuck my neighbor
i'm tryna hook my waves up
i'm tryna pull my grades up
to get them saddle lace ups
before le marc was jacob
before them girls wore makeup
before my voice would break up
before we'd tour them shake clubs
before my mama wake up
before my palms would cake up
before they told me they love me and we'll never breakup
before the time she makes love to someone that i was my homeboy
my homeboy, my boy bust, i run now
i don't budge, don't want much
just a roof and porch
and a porsche, and a horse and unfortunately
but of course an assortment of tortures that scorches the skin when they enter
and true ? too thirsty
at a lousy job, housing god if he let's lucifer let loose on us
that new song that won't loosen up but loose enough to juice us up
make us think we do so much and do it big
like they don't love us man, i can't pretend
but i admit it, it feel good when the hood pseudo-celebrate
hence why every time we dine we eat until our belly aches
then go grab the finest wine and drink it like we know which grape and which region it came from
as if we can name em, hint hint, it ain't um welch's
hell just fell three thousand more degrees cooler
ya'll can't measure my worth, but when you try
you'll need a ruler made by all the greek gods
because the odds have always been stacked against me
the backs against the wall
i feel right at home, y'all sitting right at home
all kelly green with envy while i'm jelly beans descending
into the palms of a child, looks up at mama and smiles
like "where the hell have you been"
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