Текст песни Think About It (Rick Ross) с переводом

Damn man

Nard & B

I done just woke up

A fuckin' 'nother day, another dollar, another bitch

Trenchwerk

And another bankroll, hey

I take my hustle state to state, say I go different places

I shake a lot of hands, do shows and I see different faces

I smoke a blunt then close my eyes because my mental racing

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, think about it

I pulled the floor up, put marble down, it need renovatin'

Open the safe, see them rubberbands on them bigger faces

I done bought everything that I ever wanted but it’s still empty spaces

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, think about it

I watch my cousin the kitchen, he like a slave (he whip it up)

My uncle died from that needle, yeah it was AIDs nigga (my Uncle Roy)

Turner Field might be gone but I’m still brave nigga (say what)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, think about it

That money counter count it for me, I’ma made man (that money baby)

I told my buddy, «Don't renig,» like a spades hand (I don’t renig)

These Cartiers but they used to be some Ray Bans (rich homie)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, think about it

Everyday I’m Sunday fresh, I talk that shit just like a preacher (I talk that

shit)

Niggas merge into my lane just like a car without a blinker (skkkrrrt)

They don’t hear what I’m sayin', they like a car without no speakers (that

right too)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, think about it

I take my hustle state to state, say I go different places

I shake a lot of hands, do shows and I see different faces

I smoke a blunt then close my eyes because my mental racing

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, think about it

I pulled the floor up, put marble down, it need renovatin'

Open the safe, see them rubberbands on them bigger faces

I done bought everything that I ever wanted but it’s still empty space

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, think about it

Reservations at Chops, Lamborghinis no tops

Menages for lunch, Ferraris out front

We might fuck on the lake, so much paper to make

Rubberbands on the hundreds, sip Rosé in the bank

I made her quit her job, Moschino, she’s a star

Versace in the fall, Gucci, I keep her raw

She so clean in Celine, pussy cute as could be

I like to take photos, like to keep 'em for me

Flatline, fuck her 'till that pussy dead (The biggest)

Keep her off that social media a couple day

She went and got it tatted, said a nigga name

She know I got her back, I mean a million ways

I take my hustle state to state, say I go different places

I shake a lot of hands, do shows and I see different faces

I smoke a blunt then close my eyes because my mental racing

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, think about it

I pulled the floor up, put marble down, it need renovatin'

Open the safe, see them rubberbands on them bigger faces

I done bought everything that I ever wanted but it’s still empty space

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, think about it

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