Music Video

09. Rick Ross - One Of Us Feat. Nas
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Leo Brooks
Leo Brooks
Bass
Nas
Nas
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nasir Jones
Nasir Jones
Composer
C. Kenon
C. Kenon
Composer
Rick Ross
Rick Ross
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Calvo Da Gr8
Calvo Da Gr8
Producer
Eddie "eMIX" Hernandez
Eddie "eMIX" Hernandez
Mixing Engineer
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

You could die young out here Mess around and die before 21 out here Mamas stressing, seen them ratchets in the dresser She not asking questions She seen the vests and seen other kids in the casket resting Weed so loud they got surround sound Smoking good shit cause they tryna take me back to some hood shit Any club, any fly fair If they start shooting all they remember is Nas was there Some homies of yours bangin' affiliation on their personal time Conflict with business can hurt down the line It's something that you ain't have nothing to do with Your man conversation end up getting you hit Learn how to draw the line from when we hang with the shooters Strippers, dealers and killers, leaches and opportunists Where I come from it's ruthless, air you out from the Ubers Tutored by coke movers, put holes through ya' You wouldn't get that from me though, you'd overlook me Looking like I just get to that money and stay in some pussy Got a pretty real dope life Fly nigga from the other side, hecklers, PKs, 9's and .45's 7.62's, deer-hunting rifle shells, life is hell Pussy sweeter than wine tasting But we won't self-indict ourselves Be our own prosecutor, won't 25-to-life ourselves We bout that moolah, rich shooters You getting money, got a body then you one of us Trust You getting money, got a body then you one of us Calculating, touching money, these niggas masturbating Tailored clothes, fashion magazines, they fascinated Double-M umbrella, the feds call it tax shelter Hit a million, they conspire to send the rats at you Cha-cha-cha-cha, slide, catch me on that other side Foreign cars, private jets, high rate of homicide Marc Jacobs chocolate diamonds, they for my white bitch Atheist, but her pussy could be so righteous Follow the rules, never let a man take your jewels And if he do, double back make sure he make the news It ain't arrest, they ain't a pussy til it's time to bust You gettin' money, got a body then you one of us You gettin' money, got a body then you one of us Trust You gettin' money, got a body then you one of us Dice game, head crackers, time to get it back Only one in the studio that could get a pack Raw deal, rob a nigga like it's on my appeal Closest friends do us best, regardless how I feel Went to the line and got 'em bitches on the same day Straight to the jeweler, and did the watches the same way Young sav on face time, talking cake time Next crib I build got to cross state lines Niggas hate how I wear my heart on my sleeve And half the team, got the choppers with the shoulder slings It ain't a rust, stay in the trap til you a hundred up You gettin' money, got a body then you one of us You gettin' money, got a body then you one of us You gettin' money, got a body then you one of us
Writer(s): William Leonard Roberts, Nasir Jones, Calvin David Jr. Kenon Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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