Porsche GT3 – RS Lyrics By Rick Ross
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer to the Lord
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche
Any pressure, I’m a spin the block for my boys
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning (Lord), send a prayer up to the Lord
Pull up to the club, I got a valet all the toys
Let her see the diamonds, then I hit her with the voice
Couple nigga with me, bitch, it’s time to make a choice
Shooters move in silence, so don’t make me bring the noise
Go on, get the money just to blow it is the point (point)
Never turn a rat, I rather do it in the joint (joint)
If the clique some bitches, time to go get a divorce
Pull up in the hood, paper tag on my new Porsche
Got a hundred kilos, boy, I’m fuckin’ with Detroit (Detroit)
Countin’ all the money, and you know I’m unemployed (no, job)
Four full pockets for the bitches I enjoyed
I got the Fentynal, pink cocaine, and the boy
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer to the Lord (Lord)
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche (Lord)
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche (Lord)
Any pressure, I’m a spin the block for my boys
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (uh, uh, uh, uh)
KaySo daddy took the stand and told on his boy
Nigga been a rat, another police on the force
Fuck your diabetes, bitch, we kickin’ in the door (boom)
I thought you dealin’ dope, but, boy, you runnin’ for the floor
Catch me in the kitchen for the toast, I’m whippin’ yayo
Beach Boys, suck the dick on my new boat
Uh-huh (uh-huh), uh-huh (uh-huh)
Uh-huh (uh-huh), uh-huh
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer to the Lord (Lord)
Need to hit the streets, I need the money for a Porsche (Lord)
Dealin’ heroin, my molly nigga call it “boy”
Pull up club, and let me time to valet all the toys
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer to the Lord (Lord)
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche (Lord)
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche
Any pressure, I’m a spin the block for my boys (boys)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord
