Boss Song Lyrics - Rick Ross

La la, la la, la la (this is, this is, Ross)
La la, la la (this is, the movement, this is, Ross, Triple C's)
305 M-I yayo
Run how you want, boss (yeah)
Chill how you want, boss (yeah)
Floss how you want, boss (yeah)
Do whatcha like (woo)
Go rock your chain, boss (yeah)
Pour that champagne, boss (yeah)
Keep getting paid, boss (yeah)
Do whatcha like (woo)

As I'm poppin' my collar, black on black antique impala
She ain't gotta speak 'cause my speakers let her know that I'm ballin' (ballin')
They call me the boss (boss), I be calling the shots (shots)
It's Ricky Ross, that boy be ballin a lot (lot)
That boy be ridin' big (big), that boy be ridin' rims (rims)
Not the flats but the fish 'cause 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 (boss)
Shining is boss (boss)
Grand daddy kush, or the purt, yellow diamonds is boss (boss)
That dime a boss (boss), She fine as a house (house)
And she driving a porche (porche), She designed for a boss

Run how you want, boss (yeah)
Chill how you want, boss (yeah)
Floss how you want, boss (yeah)
Do whatcha like (woo)
Go rock your chain, boss (yeah)
Pour that champagne, boss (yeah)
Keep getting paid, boss (yeah)
Do whatcha like (woo)
Ross, la la, Ross la la, Ross la la
Do whatcha like
Ross, la la, Ross la la, Ross 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 (no), 'cause of my chain (chain)
'Cause of my bling, like a peacock standing on my ring
'Cause 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 'cause I'm the pepper in the south
Whatcha feel, whatcha like
Whatcha want, what's your type
I done seen it, done it twice, bought it up the same night
'Cause I'm a boss (uh), its Ricky Ross (Ross)
If you buy, if you spend it, fuck the cost
You's a boss, You a boss

Run how you want, boss (yeah)
Chill how you want, boss (yeah)
Floss how you want, boss (yeah)
Do whatcha like (woo)
Go rock your chain, boss (yeah)
Pour that champagne, boss (yeah)
Keep getting paid, boss (yeah)
Do whatcha like (woo)
Ross, la la, Ross la la, Ross la la
Do whatcha like
Ross, la la, Ross la la, Ross la la
Do whatcha like

Before a rock got whipped
And they Pistol got ripped
Before you 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 (yeah)
Chill how you want, boss (yeah)
Floss how you want, boss (yeah)
Do whatcha like (woo)
Go rock your chain, boss Triple C's(yeah)
Pour that champagne, boss (yeah)
Keep getting paid, boss (yeah)
Do whatcha like (woo)
Ross, la la, Ross la la, Ross la la
Do whatcha like
Ross, la la, Ross la la, Ross la la
Do whatcha like