Mafia Music III - Rick Ross, Sizzla Kalonji, Mavado

Kilograms were the key to my success

I apologize being so discreet with my connects

Lamborghinis were figments of my imagination

Whoever figured the figures this figure would be making

Plenty cream my women pose like figurines

Whips weaving through traffic the triple black centipedes

Oh please let a nigga breathe

Dilated pupils are the seeds of a niggas greed

With 20 g’s in my denim jeans

If she fucking me she lucky just to get some Chuck E. Cheese

I bust my nut and holla lucky me

Its tatted in my vein I remain sucker free

My vocal like an atom bomb in the Avalon

Black roses for singing the saddest song

As Salamu Alaykum to paper

Walaikum Salam

Im the don inshallah, now pour me my Dom

Being gangstas a cold job

Wack a nigga go rejoice with a blow job

Always wanted Rolls Royce with no job

Then again all I fear is a dope charge

All I fear is a dope charge

Tell me whats the odds for appeals for a dope boy

Who shed tears for a dope boy

Oh what happens to the kids of the dope boy

Orphans, fucking orphans

Born defending some nigga never been on offence

Now its shrimp, order more shrimp

My neighbourhood a rackett I practice my importance

You know we hustle to the key of life

Moving weed and white before we learn to read and write

So fuck a tutor pay attention to my shooter

Fucking me today but next she be fucking Luda

We assholes with fast cars and cash flow

My last load was gift wrapped by Castro

I did it all but the blow was my specialty

Mental telepathy directly in my recipe

Ahh, 2 mill on my second home

Still stepping on a couple bricks of that methadone

I got a method for getting money like RZA do

Resurrected Big Poppa in the physical

Reincarnated the realest I’m getting revenue

10 mill borrowed from my peers in the federal

And thats several for slinging in Atlanta

But the way they dress you never knew

Thought they seen a better view

But the feds had a rat named Reginald

That put em on a pedestal the conviction was incredible

The moral of the story was

Ain’t no happy ending for a thug

I think of 2Pac, I think of Biggie now

Look how they getting down, I went and bought a 50 Cal

We all go when we gotta go

My Glock hole bigger than Nicki Minaj camel toe

So let the panel know we back, the commission intact

Teflon Don in all black fulfilling contracts

I’m only here to supersede my successors

RIP Paul Castellano, Myer Lansky, Bumpy Johnson, Al Capone

T-Roger, Tookie Williams, Carlo Gambino and last but not least John Gotti

Teflon Don

(Ross, Ross, ross)