Boss (feat. Dre)

Run how you want, boss

Chill how you want, boss

Floss how you want, boss

Do what ya like

Go rock your chain, boss

Pour that champagne, boss

Keep getting paid, boss

Do what ya like

As I'm popping my collar

Black on black, antique Impala

She ain't gotta speak

'Cause my speakers let her know that I'm balling

They call me the boss

I be calling the shots

It's Ricky Ross, that boy be balling a lot

That boy be riding big

That boy be riding rims

Not the flats, but the fish

'Cause they just swim

New York to the west

You a boss if you fresh

Scuff your shoes, wipe 'em down

Now get back on your two step

Stunting is boss

Shining is boss

Granddaddy kush or the purp

Yellow diamonds is boss

The dime a boss

She fine as a house

And she driving a Porsche

She designed for a boss

Run how you want, boss

Chill how you want, boss

Floss how you want, boss

Do what ya like

Go rock your chain, boss

Pour that champagne, boss

Keep getting paid, boss

Do what ya like

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Do what ya like

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Do what ya like

I'm riding big, I'm hopping lanes

My Chevy thing got these chickens all insane

Look at my stones tap dancing on the bezel

Bad baby at the Rollie, lap dancing and wanna kiss me

Oh no, 'cause of my chain

'Cause of my bling like a peacock

Standing on my ring

'Cause I'm a boss, I'ma spend it

I'ma floss, I'm a winner

You done lost, all these ****

Sprinkle salt 'cause I'm the pepper

In the South

What ya feel, what ya like?

What ya want, what's ya type?

I done seen it, done it twice

Bought it up the same night

'Cause I'm a boss, it's Ricky Ross

If you buy it, if you spend it, fuck the cost

You's a boss, you a boss

Run how you want, boss

Chill how you want, boss

Floss how you want, boss

Do what ya like

Go rock your chain, boss

Pour that champagne, boss

Keep getting paid, boss

Do what ya like

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Do what ya like

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Do what ya like

Before a rock got whipped

And they pistol got gripped

Before you got any chips

You got permission from the boss

On a mission for the charts

Outsmart my competition

Composition so sharp

So dark, so vivid

26's on the old school

Pro Tools session

Got the old school hoes

Acting brand new sweating

Brand new tennis chain

Fancy pockets on my jeans

Ten for the walk through

Forty when I'm on the stage

Two a day, super pay

Stupid brain from a model

Triple-C a hundred deep

And everybody got a bottle

Got a bottle full of purp

Full of work, no leeching

Blew fifty last weekend

If you looking for a reason

I'm the boss

Run how you want, boss

Chill how you want, boss

Floss how you want, boss

Do what ya like

Go rock your chain, boss

Pour that champagne, boss

Keep getting paid, boss

Do what ya like

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Do what ya like

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Ross, la la

Do what ya like