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Listen to Florida Boy (feat. T-Pain & Kodak Black) - Single by Rick Ross
ALBUMFlorida Boy (feat. T-Pain & Kodak Black) - SingleRick Ross
Listen to Dougie on the Beat: The Producers featuring Rick Ross
PLAYLISTDougie on the Beat: The ProducersApple Music Hip-Hop

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Rick Ross
Rick Ross
Vocals
T-Pain
T-Pain
Vocals
Kodak Black
Kodak Black
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
William Leonard Roberts II
William Leonard Roberts II
Lyrics
Dieuson Octave
Dieuson Octave
Composer
Faheem Najm
Faheem Najm
Composer
Douglas Whitehead
Douglas Whitehead
Composer
Samuel Saint-Jean
Samuel Saint-Jean
Composer
Johnny Gill
Johnny Gill
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dougie on the Beat
Dougie on the Beat
Producer
Sam Sneak
Sam Sneak
Co-Producer
Thomas "Tomcat" Bennett
Thomas "Tomcat" Bennett
Recording Engineer
Fabian Marasciullo
Fabian Marasciullo
Mixing Engineer
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

It's hard as hell for a young Florida boy Where we play football and sell dope, man Gold rims and sticks, 7-trés, no tops, ya dig, candy paints Yo, gold rims, good dope, make a wonderful summer Heard I was a genius, when it come to the numbers Do it for the young fathers, still signing the lease And all the hustlers who got somethin' in common with me If I got the keys, then it's a car I'ma keep When I line her up they say I remind 'em of Meech Shootouts in Miami, can't spend no time on the beach Do or die, get a plug, I got a hundred ki Brought her to Florida, she fell in love with lobster Then I bent the corner with a couple drops Get your money, let's reward ourselves Life a test and every day we got so much to fail (right) Told you the world was yours, now you in a cell Center of attention, now you by yourself Always did the shopping, now you're on the shelf Next time you see your daughter, bet her heart'll melt (shh) Pray for your niggas, if can't do nothin' else (they need it) Pray you see the bigger picture, look at momma health (yea) Wake up, nigga, wake up Let down the top, nigga that's your paystub It's hard as hell for this Florida boy (A Nolia boy) Home of young niggas killin' with no remorse, with no remorse Home of young niggas killin' with no remorse Yeah, bitch, I'm a Florida Boy 73s to them AMGs, now we rollin', boys And my momma raised me, FLA paid me I beat all of them cases, I'm on Bitch, I'm a Florida boy Old school, big-ass rims, sittin' like Tonka Toys I got a Florida state of mind now, I be on my grind now Let my niggas shine now, they on I could've been a student, my mind was polluted Project unit nigga, I could smell all the raw sewage Told myself, "Time to go do this" Sidelines, can't be switching up like I'm Ray Lewis For the young niggas watching, I'm rocking my jewelry Turn it into franchises as you maturing Jonny Dang seen a lot of chains Substituted for them days I miss my father's face Wake up, nigga, wake up All these politicians need they face cut Beefing with niggas you went to school with Easter Sunday at church, prayed in the pulpit I'm rocking Rollies with homies I made some moves with I'm buying homes for the woadies we toted tools with Quit acting funny, get money, and fuck some new chicks Or get buried with niggas you broke the rules with Yeah, bitch, I'm a Florida Boy 73s to them AMGs, now we rollin', boys And my mama raised me, FLA paid me I beat all of them cases, I'm on Bitch, I'm a Florida boy Old school, big-ass rims, sittin' like Tonka Toys I got a Florida state of mind now, I be on my grind now Let my niggas shine now, they on I ain't gotta hate no nigga, I just keep on winnin' (Call me a Florida boy) My bitch'll pull up in the Chevy, you can't keep up with her (Call me a Florida boy) You ain't gon' hit me for no lick, bitch I keep it on me (Call me a Florida boy) Top down by myself, but I'm never lonely (Call me a Florida boy) See I ain't really finna have remorse for ya This ain't a Maybach but my Audi A8 seats go way back They go way back Studders on the Cutlass I'm a golden nigga what Livin' like the OG slime peanut butter Nigga gotta eat I'm, talkin' to the Last Supper I'm Jordan in this motherfucker, puttin' mad numbers up Project baby street life when I'm a customer Yeah that's what I'm accustomed to Boy a young bull come charging when he running you We ain't over there in public houses like we growin' too But it's still a struggle so you can't get too comfortable 'Cause niggas see that money coming and they try to come for you But they don't know that this famous shit mean nothin' to you Still keep a gun or two and I still dump at you Crawl 'fore I walk, started running then I fucking flew Livin' like The Huxtables, but still eatin' Lunchables Yeah, and we ain't even leave the porch We do this shit for Florida, I was rich before touring Thor, standing on my ten, got it out the floor Been jumped off the porch Since 14, I had a lawyer Hit a lick in a stolen car with no headlights I'll stop at the Wing Stop, but not the red light I killed the whole DMV, no star shit Got it off credit cards, shit, yeah, larceny It was back in 2015, me and Baby linked But I'm just a type of young nigga, listen 'fore I speak I'd be flaw to say Wayne ain't influence me I don't play both sides, nigga, I keep it too G I apply rules and shit like the rules to the skreet Whacking niggas and jacking niggas for hoes snatching jewelry I'm a Haitian boy, I'm draped up in Cuban link Haitian but I'm draped up in Cuban link I swear we ain't even need the hook They gave my dawg a long sentence, he can't even read a book Sniper Gang Music 2, yeah Sniper Gang Music 2 The whole Tri county I love the Tri county, but I hate everybody
Writer(s): Kenneth Edmonds, Antonio Reid, Daryl Simmons, Rick Ross, Faheem Rasheed Najm, Dieuson Octave, Douglas Whitehead Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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