"Ric Flair" as written by and Sweatbox Productions Michael Render....
I'm going on tour, and I'm gonna show anybody
Out there that thinks for one second that maybe
I'm second guessing myself
That I am the greatest of all time forever and ever
One surprise, one surprise, shh! Wooo! I'm back

To make it out the ice cold streets of the city
You better have a Christopher word game, witty
You better have a dance game similar to Diddy
Or play b-ball above the rim like Smitty
Josh, Chris Bosh, Pau Gasol
Or any other nigga that ball and tall
I used to sell it white as Paul Wall
Gave my young boi three of them in the mall
And he gon' bring me 75K back tomorrow
You know what Bigga 'bout, you know what Bigga do
Ice water in my veins, heart pumpin' igloo
I'm familiar wit the money so who the fuck is you?
What the fuck you do? Where the fuck you from? Who you knowing?
Somebody get this nigga, I don't know him
And I'm 'bout to jet off on his ass like a Boeing
Going, going, going, gone, song

You don't like the prestige that I have in life.
You don't like the notoriety.
You detest the fact that I got more cars than most of you have friends!
I got a big house on the big side of town
I got life pretty much the way I want it!

To make it out the ice cold streets of the city
Your mindstate gotta be as wicked as Fiddy
Can't love life suckling on mama's titty
'Cause life is a bitch and a bitch ain't with it
You gotta have faith livin' life on Biggie
I'm ready to die for the money, who is with me?
Life after death, hey this must be hell
I asked for six figures, God gave back self
I'm on my way to heaven in a Porsche 911
Buried in my car, I'm surrounded by a harem
Surrounded by my brethren, my funeral is legend
Buried like a Pharaoh with my jewelry in the desert
The government will hate me like Jesus, but fuck 'em
I did it for the grind, I did it for the hustle
I did it for the people on the bottom in the struggle
I did it for my comrades, did it 'cause I love 'em

Custom made brother, woo! And I mean custom made!
From the alligators to the Oleg Cassini right here
Ric Flair! there's only one.
And I don't care if it's Tokyo, Japan, Greensboro
Richmond, Charlotte, North Carolina, Asheville,
Atlanta, Georgia, Charlotte
L.A, I'm the man that's makin' it possible!

To make it out the ice cold streets of the city
You gotta politic your situations like Clinton
If you chase power you ain't gotta chase women
So take some advice, take cash over ass
When you get money you ain't gotta take shit
So, long as you broke she ain't gotta take dick
Capiche?
Now you know what motivate your bitch
Capiche?
Pay the mortgage or the pussy up for lease
Capiche?
Church ladies goin' gaga for the Gucci (yah!)
Got two Nickis ménagin' for some Louie (yah!)
Work with the keys, get acquainted with Alicia
And every other girl named Rihanna wanna meet ya
They in it for the money, not the swag or the features
Pretty parasites might suck you like leeches
Just some information for a student from a teacher
Real life shit, I'm Mike Bigga, nice to meet ya, gone

At Delta, the girls call me cool.
At Eastern the girls call me Slick Ric
And all the other women around the world just say
Oh, there goes the man, woo!


Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher

"Ric Flair" as written by Sweatbox Productions Michael Render

Lyrics © THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC.

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

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