Boss - Rick Ross, Dre

Run how you want, boss

Chill how you want, boss

Floss how you want, boss

Do whatcha like

Go rock your chain, boss

Pour that champagne, boss

Keep getting paid, boss

Do Whatcha like

Ross, la la, la la, la la

Do Whatcha like

Ross, la la, la la, la la

Do Whatcha like

As I’m poppin' my collar, black on black antique impala

She ain’t gotta speak cuz my speakers let her know that I’m ballin

They call me the boss, I be calling the shots

It’s Ricky Ross, that boy be ballin alot

That boy be ridin' big, that boy be ridin' rim’s

Not the flats but the fish cuz 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

Grand daddy kush, or the purt, yellow diamonds is boss

That dime a boss, She fine as a house

And she driving a porche, She designed for a boss

Run how you want, boss

Chill how you want, boss

Floss how you want, boss

Do whatcha like

Go rock your chain, boss

Pour that champagne, boss

Keep getting paid, boss

Do Whatcha like

Ross, la la, la la, la la

Do Whatcha like

Ross, la la, la la, la la

Do Whatcha like

I’m ridin' big, I’m hoping lanes

My chevy thang, Got this chickens all insane

Look at my stones tap dancing on the bezzle

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

Oh no, cuz of my chain

Cuz of my bling like a peacock standing on my ring

Cuz I’m a boss, I’m a spend it

I’m a floss, I’m a winner

You the loss, all these niggas

Sprinkle soft cuz im the pepper and the salt

Whatcha feel, whatcha like

Whatcha want, what’s your type

I done seen it, done it twice, bought it up the same night

Cuz I’m a boss, its Ricky Ross

If u buy, if u 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 whatcha like

Go rock your chain, boss

Pour that champagne, boss

Keep getting paid, boss

Do Whatcha like

Ross, la la, la la, la la

Do Whatcha like

Ross, la la, la la, la la

Do Whatcha like

Before the block got whipped

And they Pistol got ripped

Before u got any chips

You got permission from the boss

On a mission for the charts, out-smart my competition

Composition so sharp, so dark, so vivid

26's on the old school

Pro tools session

Got the old school ho’s

Acting brand new sweating

Brand new tennis chain, fancy pockets on my jeans

Headed for the walk dude, fore' they win him 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 leachin'

Blew 50 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 whatcha like

Go rock your chain, boss

Pour that champagne, boss

Keep getting paid, boss

Do Whatcha like

Ross, la la, la la, la la

Do Whatcha like

Ross, la la, la la, la la

Do Whatcha like