Текст песни D.O.P.E. (Rick Ross) с переводом

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope

Bag full of percs, cup full of syrup

Run up get murked

I got time on my wrist and it’s an Audemar

I just spent ten bricks on a foreign car

I got rugs by the door, Versace on the floor

Chest full of ink, pussy on the sink

My safe full of stones, my phone’s always on

When my eyes start to roll, you know I’m in the zone

Rubber bands on the five, r-rubber band on the ten

Gave a bitch all the dubs, hundred grand on the Benz

Got a truck full of dope, plug on the coke

Renzel done came up, prosecutors want to know

Is everything dope? Is everything dope?

How does everything go?

And why does every body know?

How does every body know?

Why does every body know?

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope

Bag full of percs, cup full of syrup

Run up get murked

I got time on my wrist and it’s an Audemar

I just spent ten bricks on a foreign car

Pinky ring got dope on it

Sipping lean keep dope on me

Switching lanes like them folks on me

Twenty chains got dope on me

VVS’s that’s dope on me

Fell in love with the dope angle

Pyrex got good work in it

Minute Maid put syrup in it

Got a mermaid dripping Hermes

Popping pills in the early

Her head game so geeked up

I’m making money got me Geechi

My rolex so Geechi

Presidentials so Geechi

See my whips they Geechi

Roll up Back’s they Geechi

Racks on racks they Geechi

And my whole hood Geechi

Let’s get intoxicated, oh let’s get intoxicated

Niggas they mad we made it

Look at them niggas they mad we made it

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope

Bag full of percs, cup full of syrup

Run up get murked

I got time on my wrist and it’s an Audemar

I just spent ten bricks on a foreign car

Fed’s at the door, I done flushed all the dope

I done run out the back, breakfast on the stove

I’m a ain’t shit nigga, fucking the same bitch nigga

Only one small difference, I’m a straight rich nigga

We bury money in the fields

Mansions in the hill

Strippers at the crib, this how I live

Always wanna smoke, always on the go

They always on my page, waiting for the next post

Feds wanna know, they just wanna know

Is it really dope? Is it really dope?

All this shit can’t be his, this can’t be real

Shawty ass so fine that can’t be real

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope, everything dope

Everything dope

Bag full of percs, cup full of syrup

Run up get murked

I got time on my wrist and it’s an Audemar

I just spent ten bricks on a foreign car

Maybach music

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