Lyrics of 'Lyrical Eazy (feat. Meek Mill)' by Rick Ross

Glock 4 a peezy, this shit too easy (Too easy)
These fuckin' rap niggas be talkin' to greasy (Too greasy)
Said smoke, well run up on me nigga, when you see me, pussy (Fuck 'em)
Murder on mind, I been up all night
Two bad bitches tryna fuck all night
Heard we was in the club, he had to duck all night
I told him, catch him at the later, I shoot his truck on seight
Niggas ain't got it (Got it), niggas ain't 'bout it ('Bout it)
Hunnid cash, large black card in my pocket (Pocket)
Rose gold Richie' (Richie'), I don't need a rocket (Never)
Brand new Benz for what? 'Cause I ain't even drive it
Nigga, this how I'm respondin', I'm like, y'all ain't even pop it
'Cause we've been mobbin', flyin' private, different hours
And I ain't lyin', I got this money shit to a science
Got your baby momma in the Bahamas actin' different and she wildin'
All that 42 get turned like Dugg and them (Free 'em)
'Bout that cash and get real slimey, talk like Thug and 'em (Free Thug)
Nigga say they fuck with us, but we don't fuck with them (Fuck 'em)
My youngin' got that chopper, turnin' Andre, he star drummin' 'em (Brrt)

Boss
Grew up in the projects, jumpin' on the roof
Garbage bag full of dollars, I come from the movie
Young Jimmy IV, know the crime scene (Woo)
Leave a nigga whole team on them RIPs (Ah)
Point 'em out and put 'em on obituaries (Splat)
Love a business, either or, it's only temporary
Cash city niggas, never known to sip pathetic (Y'all see)
I'm 'bout the money, you can miss me with your freaky fetish (Woo)
Straight from Star Island, take me to Jamaica (Lord)
Three-hundred for a yacht, never droppin' anchor (Huh)
Count a thousand pounds as we ride around (Thousand)
Disrespect is not allowed, so we shot him down (Brrt)
Bricks in the crate, first forty-eight (Brrt)
Lamborghini out the box, so who wanna race? (Wow)
My attorney talkin' facts, rats on the tape (Huh)
I'm talkin' money, off the topic, count it in your face

M-M-M
Gang you know