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"Coke Like The 80’s" lyrics by RICK ROSS
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"Coke Like The 80’s"

Okay last time, this is drugs
This is your brain on drugs
Any questions?

Welcome home George Jung (RIP McBride)
The real Boston George
It's that Dade Country yayo shit
Double MOB
I'm finny take these pussy niggas down
Beat Billionaire

I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, in my all white Mercedes
I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, in my coke white Mercedes

[Verse 1:]
All white, nigga, Big Ike, nigga
Keep shooters with me, you'll call your gravesite nigga
15th Ave, miracle nigga
Get these conch fritters fried, come and get a few nigga
John Doe nigga, you know that convo
Get you that weed and white, want you a combo nigga
Checkmate with the sticks, identify by your kicks
Welcome home to Skinner, already bought him a brick
Boobie Gang was the clique, forever changed the game
Bunky Brown was a legend, Wayne Parker the mane (Vonda)
Carol City success, 183rd still a rout
We live in the jungle, fishtanks in the house


[Verse 2:]
Bo dealin' nigga, oh really nigga?
Bunche Park hot, it's a block full of killas
Lil' Trav, nigga
Execution upcomin', 'bout that lil' tab nigga
River City, they slide, aka homicide
Rest in peace to the Goonies, one day we'll be eye to eye
It is what it is, I left the vest at the crib
Extended the clip, I'm a give 'em the biz
Catch you jackin' your dick, now you fucked in the game
Leave you flat on your back, where you lay was a stain
A mil' in the hole is every real nigga goal
And this uncut like Ochoa, they want your crumbs off the floor


[Verse 3:]
My new bitch, she a waitress, strip club is a trap
Stick my dick in her pussy when she come sit on my lap
Get that paper, my plug, he sent that pack from Bahamas
It's uncut like the 80's, 17 still my number
Candy paint on my donk, Jesus piece on my charm
[?], she just wanted a bump
Her man wanted a line, so I sold 'em a verse
Sold a quarter for 9, and I sold 'em the vert
Can't be takin' them trips, for that flea market whip
Peep this Rollie fugazy, I'm sellin' game to a pimp
Line up all of my bitches, head crack 'em and check 'em
Even if she barefooted, I bet the streets gon' respect her


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