Rick Ross – Turnpike Ike

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Rick Ross – Turnpike Ike Lyrics

[Intro: Rick Ross] I told her that she can’t fuck me like a king no more
I told her she gotta make love to me like I’m a emperor, a emperor
Man, I done got money everywhere nigga but particularly that Turnpike south
It’s really a blessing to a young nigga like Renzel

[Verse 1: Rick Ross] Indictment on the way, I’ll say that on the case
When you get your first kilo, it should be on your face
Nigga movin’ like the mob, hundred thousand franks
Dry land when you wanna be out on the lake (Swish)
Determined to be one of the fortunate men
Bitches come from everywhere, once the hustlin’ commence
I see you prayin’, testifying, forgotten the time
Bottom line, your cars should get shot up like it were mine
20 round but the voodoo, let no humbie allowed
Mafutu, they’ll all know the spirit when I’ll be aroused
Made it to star island, started with a nickel rock
Who thought a project nigga get to get a yacht?
Two million dollars cash in the Range Rover
Opa-Locka airport lets get the plane loaded
I put it on the turnpike
Gold rims, whip real, blue bills duckin’ the termites

[Skit: Rick Ross & Female Vocal] I’ma let one of my bad bitches tell y’all how much paper I got
Baby, what we living like? Twenty houses
What else? Fifty cars
Yeah, what that make you feel like?
Priceless baby
Huh, you live for me? Everyday
You would die for me? Right now
Huh, Double MG

[Verse 2: Rick Ross] Turnpike, real earner, Ted Turner (Me)
Whip it in the kitchen that boy was a fast learner
Tryna live it up, two millions tucked in that new Bentley truck
Ain’t too many I can trust so shooters is a must
I reminisce when it was hit or miss
I was innocent ’til I hit a lick
Seven figures on a nigga mamma couch
Don’t want it here nobody talking ’bout their drought
I’m chilling in the yacht and my Mitchell & Ness
Stitches in my breaches, fifty-seveness
Switchers you can smell ’em on the internet
Ain’t beefing with nobody ’cause I’m killing it
I toss the pistol on the car chase (Wow)
They walk into the church just like the boy Mase (Lord)
I’m the man out in Barcelona (Boss)
Got a couple of bad bitches out in California

[Skit 2: Rick Ross & Female Vocal] Real language, biggest
Tell these niggas some old shit bae
Baby, you’re the biggest (Huh, your fine ass)
The biggest boss, you’re my boss baby
How much money we gonna get?
We gon’ get all of it baby (Huh) We gon’ take it all honey
Turnpike Ike (Huh)
You’re the biggest baby, you’re the boss

[Verse 3: Rick Ross] Go get a room, I’d rather turn ’em, I’m an [?] I’m making move with all my range, you better call the cops
Second week, and I just had to go buy me a drop
Slick remarks and I’m in county, you licking the shot
Cold games, I gotta step out on [?] first
Gill green, the way I capture the moment with words
City mine, I keep the killers to fill up the church
Swear to God, the quarter kilo won’t get you a verse
Bring mine, stay on time, and that’s where we resign
Meanwhile, we’d be having such a meaningful time
Spiritual nigga, baptize up in G5
With bad bitches who’s idols feel with Nicki Minaj
Rags to richest, now I move with beautiful women
Newfound, new beginning, one day dada I grew to be winning
If you looking for me catch me on the turnpike
And when you see me, I’ma show what this work like, nigga

[Skit 3: Rick Ross] Fuck you think this is? Turnpike Ike nigga
Isaac Hicks, rest in peace OG
Big Mike, Michael Delancey
Free Michael Delancey
Kenneth Williams, long live Black Bo
Carol city shit nigga

[Outro: Female vocal] You’re a thoughtful nigga, boss
They won’t ever be a boss as big as you baby
You’re the biggest, the bigges boss
You’re the biggest, the bigges boss
You’re the boss, you’re the boss