Gold Roses
By
Rick Ross, Drake
Album
Port of Miami 2
Viewed
13,095,780
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("Gold Roses" by Rick Ross and Drake)
- It's different right here. Yo.
- [Voice On Track] Maybach music
♪ I was nominated, never won a Grammy ♪
♪ But I understand, they'll
never understand me ♪
♪ Lotta lives lost, but I never panicked ♪
♪ Lotta lines crossed,
I never did a xanny ♪
♪ A hundred room mansion
but I felt abandoned ♪
♪ Love makin' love, but
where will love land me ♪
♪ Jealous, so their bitches be actin' ♪
♪ Like they sleepin' on us ♪
♪ But they speakin' on us,
jewelers quote us even numbers ♪
♪ Still blowin' smoke as
angels float above us ♪
♪ Love givin' back, but
will they ever love us ♪
♪ Chanel in the mail,
FedEx from Pharrell ♪
♪ And what I got for sale
just sit on the scale ♪
♪ Triple beam dream,
a buck on the shades ♪
♪ I really seen things
give mothers the shakes ♪
♪ I really bought cars for women on face ♪
♪ I know it seem odd, but money amazin' ♪
♪ College loans really
did fuck up her credit ♪
♪ Discover cards, look
back, I know she regret it ♪
♪ But we keep pushin', keep
our foot on the pedal ♪
♪ In the mirror she a
blessin', rebukin' the devil ♪
♪ Livin' on the edge,
she keepin' me level ♪
♪ Money come and go,
I'ma keep you forever ♪
♪ Money come and go, I'ma
keep you forever (forever) ♪
♪ Slip-on glass slippers
and tickle with feathers ♪
♪ Everywhere we go, we create a dilemma ♪
♪ Coming to America, really the set ♪
♪ I'll let your soul glow,
I'm keepin' you wet ♪
♪ All my cold Decembers,
I know she remembers ♪
♪ Forgiveness for a sinner,
but is it that simple ♪
♪ Holdin' on your hands,
your body's a temple ♪
♪ Fly you out to Cannes,
ménages with bitches ♪
♪ Lobsters and the prawns,
thought you was Spanish ♪
♪ Bottles for the Don, our parties ♪
♪ The biggest (biggest, biggest) ♪
Maybach Music
♪ Eh, whoa ♪
♪ You made me this way, yeah ♪
♪ Before I'm gone outta this place, yeah ♪
♪ Put some flowers in my face, won't you ♪
♪ Let me know that I did okay, yeah ♪
♪ Don't wait 'til some other day, no, no ♪
♪ They love to wait 'til it's
too late, too late (eh) ♪
♪ Had a dream she was singin'
to me like Gladys Knight ♪
♪ True love in the projects
is called paradise ♪
♪ All your niggas left,
you wasn't actin' right ♪
♪ But honesty itself a small sacrifice ♪
♪ My money bag heavy,
got me packin' light ♪
♪ You movin' funny, can
you fill my appetite ♪
♪ Niggas conversations,
a lot of it false ♪
♪ He own condos right over Carnegie Hall ♪
♪ Speak about your cars,
but all of 'em parked ♪
♪ Your niggas' money light,
come out of the dark ♪
♪ You really are my type,
that's not a facade ♪
♪ One of the reasons why I
write, we got a synopsis ♪
♪ I'm always at the top
of barbershop gossip ♪
♪ After further thought,
better not knock 'em ♪
♪ Allocate some dollars
to go out shoppin' ♪
♪ Bitch, we on the real ♪
♪ It's time to stop talkin'
(stop talkin', stop talkin') ♪
♪ Eh, whoa ♪
♪ You made me this way, yeah ♪
♪ Before I'm gone outta this place, yeah ♪
♪ Put some flowers in my face, won't you ♪
♪ Let me know that I did okay, yeah ♪
♪ Don't wait 'til some other day, no, no ♪
♪ They love to wait 'til it's
too late, too late (eh) ♪
