Pusha T - Millions (Feat. Rick Ross)

[Intro: Pusha-T] You know what happen when G.O.O.D. Music and MMG get together, right? We get that money [Hook: Pusha-T] Millions in the ceiling Choppas in the closet [Verse 1: Pusha-T] This that shit that y'all wanted This shit cook up hard, don't it? Y'all gotta beg my pardon on it But this shit sound like God don't it? Yeah, I'm tired, nigga, and y'all gotta pay your tithes, nigga Call my Phantom the holy ghost, church on chrome wheel tires, nigga Pop tags, I'm not paranoid cause the pawn shop was my paradise I was dead pot when that bounty came for that knot saved in that shoebox Blue tops, blue tops, bad bitch in that blue fox This big face is in blu-ray and these black diamonds like boondocks I restore the feelin' of when niggas made a killin' Hidin' choppers in the closet, half a million in the ceiling And them hoes with angel faces, cryin' loud with ill intentions Just so I can buy them Christians, have 'em shit on all they bitches, ah! [Hook x2] [Verse 2: Rick Ross] I'm haunted by horror stories, wanna-be home owners Horrible outcomes, a dope boy got one motive Cries when he convicted, cried on every visit I'm cryin' sayin' his name, ride for all my niggas Used to fiddle my finger 'til I found me a fortune Finger fuckin' Ferrari, south of France early morning Did drugs with Donatella, Versace my a cappella Never see me in Neiman's, niggas committin' treason Soft loafer preferred, frost, organic herb Stay away from the Forbes, if I only could tell you more I got this I got that, I got that I got this Got a kilo for 20 my choppas say I'm the shit [Hook x2] [Verse 3: Pusha T] This that shit y'all ask for Make a nigga mash on the gas, floor Two-door, four-door, roll through the hood like task force Fast forward--oops! They say they wanna see proof My record sales ain't much as theirs and we still ride in same coupes How we still fuck the same hoes, how we still buy the same clothes How we both got the same watch, I'm just keepin' y'all on your toes Dope boys, gold mine, that price drop and that coke rise Then set it over that blue flame then hang it dry like clothes line I restore the feelin' of when niggas made a killin' Hidin' choppers in the closet, half a million in the ceiling Got the razor on the counter, Arm & Hammer in the kitchen Just to keep my feet in Christians and keep fucking all y'all bitches [Hook] x2 [Outro] x4 This that shit ya'll wanted This shit sound like God don't it