[{"id":14830335,"name":"Vegas Residency","trackName":"Vegas Residency","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Vegas Residency","duration":321.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Black Bo, you know we miss you\nJ.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\nM-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\nSince everybody wanna speak they mind\nMaybach Music\n\nYo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\nFor every innocent brother charged with a homicide\nWent from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\nDade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\nNever golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\nBack to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\nAnother seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\nPray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n\nActresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\nDope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\nDozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\nBill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\nHeadlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\nNever rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n\nFacts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\nHeadshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\nBlack bottoms, through the nine into the morning pack\nFifty million up, I think I need me more than that\nRestaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\nNow I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n\nI really needed Doctor Sebi dealin' with these seizures\nJunior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\nGo to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\nGive my people game in this Port of Miami 2\nI lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\nGivenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\nEggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\nFlorida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n\nFeel the military for artists when they wanna beef\nI'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\nFuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\nDoin' time, I set a mind for correctional officers\nThurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\nGo and get it just to give it to the inner city\n20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n\nSeminola, Bahas and bring it back to Myrtle Grove\nMurder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\nBoobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n305, First 48 they favorite episodes (Ssch)\nSo many niggas out here singin' songs\nThat's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\nEverybody got a role, therefore we got a job\nUntil we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\n\nGold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\nMatching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\nPhone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (Hola)\nTell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\nPapi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\nSilver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\nPyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\nEatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n\nMink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\nAll my bitches tap my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\nBlack Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\nThe biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\nBlue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\nFuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\nCame up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\nNow it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n\nIn Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the Coast\nFor my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\nHundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\nTouch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\nAh, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\nI get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\nM.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\nTestify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n\nFell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\nOh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\nFacts, I'm well connected in this city life\nWe all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\nGave me a brick until I asked him, what would twenty like?\nOn body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n(I was by myself last night)\n\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\n\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n(Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n(Win, lose draw)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Vegas Residency\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Vegas Residency\n  duration_ms: 321000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  Maybach Music\n\n  Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n\n  Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n\n  Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  Black bottoms, through the nine into the morning pack\n  Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n\n  I really needed Doctor Sebi dealin' with these seizures\n  Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n\n  Feel the military for artists when they wanna beef\n  I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  Doin' time, I set a mind for correctional officers\n  Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n\n  Seminola, Bahas and bring it back to Myrtle Grove\n  Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  305, First 48 they favorite episodes (Ssch)\n  So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n\n  Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (Hola)\n  Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n\n  Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  All my bitches tap my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n\n  In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the Coast\n  For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n\n  Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  Gave me a brick until I asked him, what would twenty like?\n  On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  (I was by myself last night)\n\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  (Win, lose draw)\n"},{"id":19504248,"name":"Vegas Residency - Rick Ross","trackName":"Vegas Residency - Rick Ross","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Port of Miami 2","duration":319.14115,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Black Bo, you know we miss you\nJ.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\nM-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\nSince everybody wanna speak they mind\nMaybach Music\n\nYo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\nFor every innocent brother charged with a homicide\nWent from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\nDade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\nNever golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\nBack to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\nAnother seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\nPray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n\nActresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\nDope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\nDozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\nBill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\nHeadlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\nNever rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n\nFacts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\nHeadshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\nBlack bottoms, through the nine into the morning pack\nFifty million up, I think I need me more than that\nRestaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\nNow I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n\nI really needed Doctor Sebi dealin' with these seizures\nJunior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\nGo to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\nGive my people game in this Port of Miami 2\nI lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\nGivenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\nEggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\nFlorida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n\nFeel the military for artists when they wanna beef\nI'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\nFuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\nDoin' time, I set a mind for correctional officers\nThurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\nGo and get it just to give it to the inner city\n20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n\nSeminola, Bahas and bring it back to Myrtle Grove\nMurder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\nBoobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n305, First 48 they favorite episodes (Ssch)\nSo many niggas out here singin' songs\nThat's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\nEverybody got a role, therefore we got a job\nUntil we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\n\nGold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\nMatching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\nPhone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (Hola)\nTell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\nPapi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\nSilver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\nPyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\nEatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n\nMink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\nAll my bitches tap my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\nBlack Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\nThe biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\nBlue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\nFuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\nCame up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\nNow it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n\nIn Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the Coast\nFor my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\nHundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\nTouch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\nAh, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\nI get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\nM.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\nTestify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n\nFell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\nOh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\nFacts, I'm well connected in this city life\nWe all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\nGave me a brick until I asked him, what would twenty like?\nOn body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n(I was by myself last night)\n\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\n\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n(Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n(Win, lose draw)","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.45] Black Bo, you know we miss you\n[00:03.60] J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n[00:07.38] M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n[00:17.16] Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n[00:20.98] Maybach Music\n[00:21.54] Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n[00:24.68] For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n[00:27.22] Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n[00:30.15] Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n[00:32.66] Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n[00:35.41] Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n[00:38.15] Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n[00:40.95] Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n[00:43.73] Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n[00:46.28] Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n[00:48.94] Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n[00:51.79] Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n[00:54.52] Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n[00:57.04] Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n[00:59.78] Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n[01:02.65] Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n[01:05.34] Black bottoms, through the nine into the morning pack\n[01:07.93] Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n[01:10.78] Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n[01:13.45] Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n[01:16.75] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[01:19.07] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[01:21.92] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[01:24.61] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[01:27.41] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[01:30.24] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[01:33.06] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[01:35.42] We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n[01:38.32] I really needed Doctor Sebi dealin' with these seizures\n[01:41.03] Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n[01:43.71] Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n[01:46.37] Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n[01:49.32] I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n[01:51.93] Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n[01:54.63] Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n[01:57.38] Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n[02:00.15] Feel the military for artists when they wanna beef\n[02:02.79] I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n[02:05.54] Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n[02:08.29] Doin' time, I set a mind for correctional officers\n[02:11.17] Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n[02:13.68] 2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n[02:16.58] Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n[02:19.11] 20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n[02:21.94] Seminola, Bahas and bring it back to Myrtle Grove\n[02:24.57] Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n[02:27.46] Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n[02:30.06] 305, First 48 they favorite episodes (Ssch)\n[02:33.51] So many niggas out here singin' songs\n[02:35.44] That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n[02:38.22] Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n[02:40.98] Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n[02:43.62] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[02:46.45] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[02:49.18] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[02:51.93] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[02:55.09] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[02:57.65] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[03:02.06] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[03:05.81] Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n[03:08.38] Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n[03:10.77] Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (Hola)\n[03:13.59] Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n[03:16.41] Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n[03:19.00] Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n[03:21.82] Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n[03:24.59] Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n[03:27.36] Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n[03:29.82] All my bitches tap my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n[03:32.63] Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n[03:35.55] The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n[03:38.30] Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n[03:40.81] Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n[03:43.44] Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n[03:46.30] Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n[03:49.24] In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the Coast\n[03:51.82] For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n[03:54.57] Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n[03:56.91] Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n[04:00.03] Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n[04:02.72] I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n[04:05.53] M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n[04:08.11] Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n[04:10.94] Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n[04:13.78] Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n[04:16.60] Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n[04:19.18] We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n[04:21.88] Gave me a brick until I asked him, what would twenty like?\n[04:24.45] On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n[04:27.14] (I was by myself last night)\n[04:33.59] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[04:35.74] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[04:38.11] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[04:40.99] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[04:43.46] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[04:46.72] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[04:49.32] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[04:51.84] We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n[04:54.39] (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n[05:05.64] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[05:13.78] (Win, lose draw)\n[05:18.54] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Vegas Residency - Rick Ross\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Port of Miami 2\n  duration_ms: 319141\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  start_ms: 450\n  end_ms: 3600\n- text: J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  start_ms: 3600\n  end_ms: 7380\n- text: M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  start_ms: 7380\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 20980\n- text: Maybach Music\n  start_ms: 20980\n  end_ms: 21540\n- text: Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  start_ms: 21540\n  end_ms: 24680\n- text: For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  start_ms: 24680\n  end_ms: 27220\n- text: Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  start_ms: 27220\n  end_ms: 30150\n- text: Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  start_ms: 30150\n  end_ms: 32660\n- text: Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  start_ms: 32660\n  end_ms: 35410\n- text: Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  start_ms: 35410\n  end_ms: 38150\n- text: Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  start_ms: 38150\n  end_ms: 40950\n- text: Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n  start_ms: 40950\n  end_ms: 43730\n- text: Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  start_ms: 43730\n  end_ms: 46280\n- text: Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  start_ms: 46280\n  end_ms: 48940\n- text: Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  start_ms: 48940\n  end_ms: 51790\n- text: Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  start_ms: 51790\n  end_ms: 54520\n- text: Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  start_ms: 54520\n  end_ms: 57040\n- text: Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n  start_ms: 57040\n  end_ms: 59780\n- text: Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  start_ms: 59780\n  end_ms: 62650\n- text: Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  start_ms: 62650\n  end_ms: 65340\n- text: Black bottoms, through the nine into the morning pack\n  start_ms: 65340\n  end_ms: 67930\n- text: Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  start_ms: 67930\n  end_ms: 70780\n- text: Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  start_ms: 70780\n  end_ms: 73450\n- text: Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n  start_ms: 73450\n  end_ms: 76750\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 76750\n  end_ms: 79070\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 79070\n  end_ms: 81920\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 81920\n  end_ms: 84610\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 84610\n  end_ms: 87410\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 87410\n  end_ms: 90240\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 90240\n  end_ms: 93060\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 93060\n  end_ms: 95420\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  start_ms: 95420\n  end_ms: 98320\n- text: I really needed Doctor Sebi dealin' with these seizures\n  start_ms: 98320\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103710\n- text: Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  start_ms: 103710\n  end_ms: 106370\n- text: Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  start_ms: 106370\n  end_ms: 109320\n- text: I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  start_ms: 109320\n  end_ms: 111930\n- text: Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  start_ms: 111930\n  end_ms: 114630\n- text: Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  start_ms: 114630\n  end_ms: 117380\n- text: Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n  start_ms: 117380\n  end_ms: 120150\n- text: Feel the military for artists when they wanna beef\n  start_ms: 120150\n  end_ms: 122790\n- text: I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  start_ms: 122790\n  end_ms: 125540\n- text: Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  start_ms: 125540\n  end_ms: 128290\n- text: Doin' time, I set a mind for correctional officers\n  start_ms: 128290\n  end_ms: 131170\n- text: Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  start_ms: 131170\n  end_ms: 133680\n- text: 2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  start_ms: 133680\n  end_ms: 136580\n- text: Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  start_ms: 136580\n  end_ms: 139110\n- text: 20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n  start_ms: 139110\n  end_ms: 141940\n- text: Seminola, Bahas and bring it back to Myrtle Grove\n  start_ms: 141940\n  end_ms: 144570\n- text: Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  start_ms: 144570\n  end_ms: 147460\n- text: Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  start_ms: 147460\n  end_ms: 150060\n- text: 305, First 48 they favorite episodes (Ssch)\n  start_ms: 150060\n  end_ms: 153510\n- text: So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  start_ms: 153510\n  end_ms: 155440\n- text: That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  start_ms: 155440\n  end_ms: 158220\n- text: Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  start_ms: 158220\n  end_ms: 160980\n- text: Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n  start_ms: 160980\n  end_ms: 163620\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 163620\n  end_ms: 166450\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 166450\n  end_ms: 169180\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 169180\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 175090\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 175090\n  end_ms: 177650\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 177650\n  end_ms: 182060\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 182060\n  end_ms: 185810\n- text: Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  start_ms: 185810\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190770\n- text: Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (Hola)\n  start_ms: 190770\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 196410\n- text: Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  start_ms: 196410\n  end_ms: 199000\n- text: Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  start_ms: 199000\n  end_ms: 201820\n- text: Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  start_ms: 201820\n  end_ms: 204590\n- text: Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n  start_ms: 204590\n  end_ms: 207360\n- text: Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  start_ms: 207360\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: All my bitches tap my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 212630\n- text: Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  start_ms: 212630\n  end_ms: 215550\n- text: The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  start_ms: 215550\n  end_ms: 218300\n- text: Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  start_ms: 218300\n  end_ms: 220810\n- text: Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  start_ms: 220810\n  end_ms: 223440\n- text: Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  start_ms: 223440\n  end_ms: 226300\n- text: Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n  start_ms: 226300\n  end_ms: 229240\n- text: In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the Coast\n  start_ms: 229240\n  end_ms: 231820\n- text: For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  start_ms: 231820\n  end_ms: 234570\n- text: Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  start_ms: 234570\n  end_ms: 236910\n- text: Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  start_ms: 236910\n  end_ms: 240030\n- text: Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  start_ms: 240030\n  end_ms: 242720\n- text: I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  start_ms: 242720\n  end_ms: 245530\n- text: M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  start_ms: 245530\n  end_ms: 248110\n- text: Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n  start_ms: 248110\n  end_ms: 250940\n- text: Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  start_ms: 250940\n  end_ms: 253780\n- text: Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  start_ms: 253780\n  end_ms: 256600\n- text: Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  start_ms: 256600\n  end_ms: 259180\n- text: We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  start_ms: 259180\n  end_ms: 261880\n- text: Gave me a brick until I asked him, what would twenty like?\n  start_ms: 261880\n  end_ms: 264450\n- text: On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  start_ms: 264450\n  end_ms: 267140\n- text: (I was by myself last night)\n  start_ms: 267140\n  end_ms: 273590\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 273590\n  end_ms: 275740\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 275740\n  end_ms: 278110\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 278110\n  end_ms: 280990\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 280990\n  end_ms: 283460\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 283460\n  end_ms: 286720\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 286720\n  end_ms: 289320\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 289320\n  end_ms: 291840\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  start_ms: 291840\n  end_ms: 294390\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  start_ms: 294390\n  end_ms: 305640\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 305640\n  end_ms: 313780\n- text: (Win, lose draw)\n  start_ms: 313780\n  end_ms: 318540\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 318540\nplain: |-\n  Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  Maybach Music\n\n  Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n\n  Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n\n  Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  Black bottoms, through the nine into the morning pack\n  Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n\n  I really needed Doctor Sebi dealin' with these seizures\n  Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n\n  Feel the military for artists when they wanna beef\n  I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  Doin' time, I set a mind for correctional officers\n  Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n\n  Seminola, Bahas and bring it back to Myrtle Grove\n  Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  305, First 48 they favorite episodes (Ssch)\n  So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n\n  Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (Hola)\n  Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n\n  Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  All my bitches tap my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n\n  In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the Coast\n  For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n\n  Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  Gave me a brick until I asked him, what would twenty like?\n  On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  (I was by myself last night)\n\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  (Win, lose draw)\n"},{"id":3688602,"name":"Vegas Residency","trackName":"Vegas Residency","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Port of Miami 2","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Black Bo, you know we miss you\nJ.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\nM-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\nSince everybody wanna speak they mind\nMaybach Music\nYo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\nFor every innocent brother charged with a homicide\nWent from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\nDade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\nNever golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\nBack to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\nAnother seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\nPray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\nActresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\nDope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\nDozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\nBill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\nHeadlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\nNever rapin' women, keep it on some player time\nFacts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\nHeadshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\nBlack bottles through the night until the morning back\nFifty million up, I think I need me more than that\nRestaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\nNow I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\nI really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\nJunior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\nGo to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\nGive my people game in this Port of Miami 2\nI lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\nGivenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\nEggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\nFlorida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\nBuild a military for artists when they wanna beef\nI'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\nFuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\nDoin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\nThurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\nGo and get it just to give it to the inner city\n20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\nTook Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\nMurder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\nBoobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\nSo many niggas out here singin' songs\nThat's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\nEverybody got a role, therefore we got a job\nUntil we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nGold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\nMatching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\nPhone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\nTell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\nPapi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\nSilver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\nPyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\nEatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\nMink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\nAll my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\nBlack Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\nThe biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\nBlue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\nFuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\nCame up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\nNow it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\nIn Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\nFor my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\nHundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\nTouch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\nAh, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\nI get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\nM.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\nTestify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\nFell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\nOh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\nFacts, I'm well connected in this city life\nWe all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\nGave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\nOn body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n(I was by myself last night)\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n(Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n(Win, lose draw)","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.21] Black Bo, you know we miss you\n[00:03.47] J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n[00:07.83] M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n[00:16.65] Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n[00:20.24] Maybach Music\n[00:20.67] Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n[00:24.20] For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n[00:26.62] Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n[00:29.46] Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n[00:32.05] Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n[00:34.73] Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n[00:37.50] Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n[00:40.17] Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n[00:43.05] Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n[00:45.92] Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n[00:48.61] Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n[00:51.29] Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n[00:54.00] Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n[00:56.69] Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n[00:59.45] Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n[01:02.69] Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n[01:05.05] Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n[01:07.94] Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n[01:10.59] Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n[01:13.37] Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n[01:16.93] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[01:19.05] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[01:21.44] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[01:24.06] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[01:26.75] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[01:30.03] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[01:32.33] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[01:34.49] We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n[01:37.69] I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n[01:40.80] Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n[01:43.13] Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n[01:45.93] Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n[01:48.58] I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n[01:51.56] Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n[01:54.03] Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n[01:57.10] Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n[01:59.86] Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n[02:02.59] I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n[02:05.09] Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n[02:07.93] Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n[02:10.65] Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n[02:13.78] 2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n[02:16.16] Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n[02:18.77] 20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n[02:21.69] Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n[02:24.17] Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n[02:26.99] Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n[02:29.70] 305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n[02:32.80] So many niggas out here singin' songs\n[02:34.93] That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n[02:37.88] Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n[02:40.54] Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n[02:43.19] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[02:46.67] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[02:48.80] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[02:51.54] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[02:54.04] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[02:57.66] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[03:03.00] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[03:05.39] Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n[03:07.61] Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n[03:10.32] Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n[03:12.95] Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n[03:15.55] Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n[03:18.50] Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n[03:21.24] Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n[03:23.73] Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n[03:26.65] Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n[03:29.39] All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n[03:32.18] Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n[03:34.97] The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n[03:37.57] Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n[03:40.31] Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n[03:43.06] Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n[03:45.73] Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n[03:49.11] In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n[03:51.25] For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n[03:54.18] Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n[03:57.35] Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n[03:59.53] Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n[04:02.39] I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n[04:05.14] M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n[04:07.83] Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n[04:10.56] Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n[04:13.24] Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n[04:16.11] Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n[04:18.81] We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n[04:21.53] Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n[04:24.13] On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n[04:27.18] (I was by myself last night)\n[04:33.35] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[04:35.42] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[04:37.87] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[04:40.59] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[04:43.37] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[04:45.99] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[04:48.58] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[04:51.28] We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n[04:54.00] (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n[05:04.93] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[05:16.14] (Win, lose draw)","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Vegas Residency\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Port of Miami 2\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  start_ms: 210\n  end_ms: 3470\n- text: J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  start_ms: 3470\n  end_ms: 7830\n- text: M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  start_ms: 7830\n  end_ms: 16650\n- text: Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  start_ms: 16650\n  end_ms: 20240\n- text: Maybach Music\n  start_ms: 20240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 24200\n- text: For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  start_ms: 24200\n  end_ms: 26620\n- text: Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  start_ms: 26620\n  end_ms: 29460\n- text: Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  start_ms: 29460\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 34730\n- text: Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  start_ms: 34730\n  end_ms: 37500\n- text: Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  start_ms: 37500\n  end_ms: 40170\n- text: Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n  start_ms: 40170\n  end_ms: 43050\n- text: Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  start_ms: 43050\n  end_ms: 45920\n- text: Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  start_ms: 45920\n  end_ms: 48610\n- text: Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  start_ms: 48610\n  end_ms: 51290\n- text: Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  start_ms: 51290\n  end_ms: 54000\n- text: Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  start_ms: 54000\n  end_ms: 56690\n- text: Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n  start_ms: 56690\n  end_ms: 59450\n- text: Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  start_ms: 59450\n  end_ms: 62690\n- text: Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  start_ms: 62690\n  end_ms: 65050\n- text: Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n  start_ms: 65050\n  end_ms: 67940\n- text: Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  start_ms: 67940\n  end_ms: 70590\n- text: Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  start_ms: 70590\n  end_ms: 73370\n- text: Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n  start_ms: 73370\n  end_ms: 76930\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 76930\n  end_ms: 79050\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 79050\n  end_ms: 81440\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 81440\n  end_ms: 84060\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 84060\n  end_ms: 86750\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 86750\n  end_ms: 90030\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 90030\n  end_ms: 92330\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 92330\n  end_ms: 94490\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  start_ms: 94490\n  end_ms: 97690\n- text: I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n  start_ms: 97690\n  end_ms: 100800\n- text: Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  start_ms: 100800\n  end_ms: 103130\n- text: Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  start_ms: 103130\n  end_ms: 105930\n- text: Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  start_ms: 105930\n  end_ms: 108580\n- text: I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  start_ms: 108580\n  end_ms: 111560\n- text: Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  start_ms: 111560\n  end_ms: 114030\n- text: Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  start_ms: 114030\n  end_ms: 117100\n- text: Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n  start_ms: 117100\n  end_ms: 119860\n- text: Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n  start_ms: 119860\n  end_ms: 122590\n- text: I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  start_ms: 122590\n  end_ms: 125090\n- text: Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  start_ms: 125090\n  end_ms: 127930\n- text: Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n  start_ms: 127930\n  end_ms: 130650\n- text: Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  start_ms: 130650\n  end_ms: 133780\n- text: 2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  start_ms: 133780\n  end_ms: 136160\n- text: Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  start_ms: 136160\n  end_ms: 138770\n- text: 20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n  start_ms: 138770\n  end_ms: 141690\n- text: Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n  start_ms: 141690\n  end_ms: 144170\n- text: Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  start_ms: 144170\n  end_ms: 146990\n- text: Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  start_ms: 146990\n  end_ms: 149700\n- text: 305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n  start_ms: 149700\n  end_ms: 152800\n- text: So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  start_ms: 152800\n  end_ms: 154930\n- text: That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  start_ms: 154930\n  end_ms: 157880\n- text: Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  start_ms: 157880\n  end_ms: 160540\n- text: Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n  start_ms: 160540\n  end_ms: 163190\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 163190\n  end_ms: 166670\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 166670\n  end_ms: 168800\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 168800\n  end_ms: 171540\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 171540\n  end_ms: 174040\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 174040\n  end_ms: 177660\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 177660\n  end_ms: 183000\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 183000\n  end_ms: 185390\n- text: Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  start_ms: 185390\n  end_ms: 187610\n- text: Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  start_ms: 187610\n  end_ms: 190320\n- text: Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n  start_ms: 190320\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 195550\n- text: Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  start_ms: 195550\n  end_ms: 198500\n- text: Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  start_ms: 198500\n  end_ms: 201240\n- text: Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  start_ms: 201240\n  end_ms: 203730\n- text: Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n  start_ms: 203730\n  end_ms: 206650\n- text: Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  start_ms: 206650\n  end_ms: 209390\n- text: All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  start_ms: 209390\n  end_ms: 212180\n- text: Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  start_ms: 212180\n  end_ms: 214970\n- text: The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  start_ms: 214970\n  end_ms: 217570\n- text: Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  start_ms: 217570\n  end_ms: 220310\n- text: Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  start_ms: 220310\n  end_ms: 223060\n- text: Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  start_ms: 223060\n  end_ms: 225730\n- text: Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n  start_ms: 225730\n  end_ms: 229110\n- text: In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n  start_ms: 229110\n  end_ms: 231250\n- text: For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  start_ms: 231250\n  end_ms: 234180\n- text: Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  start_ms: 234180\n  end_ms: 237350\n- text: Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  start_ms: 237350\n  end_ms: 239530\n- text: Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  start_ms: 239530\n  end_ms: 242390\n- text: I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  start_ms: 242390\n  end_ms: 245140\n- text: M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  start_ms: 245140\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250560\n- text: Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  start_ms: 250560\n  end_ms: 253240\n- text: Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  start_ms: 253240\n  end_ms: 256110\n- text: Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  start_ms: 256110\n  end_ms: 258810\n- text: We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  start_ms: 258810\n  end_ms: 261530\n- text: Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n  start_ms: 261530\n  end_ms: 264130\n- text: On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  start_ms: 264130\n  end_ms: 267180\n- text: (I was by myself last night)\n  start_ms: 267180\n  end_ms: 273350\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 273350\n  end_ms: 275420\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 275420\n  end_ms: 277870\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 277870\n  end_ms: 280590\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 280590\n  end_ms: 283370\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 283370\n  end_ms: 285990\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 285990\n  end_ms: 288580\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 288580\n  end_ms: 291280\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  start_ms: 291280\n  end_ms: 294000\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  start_ms: 294000\n  end_ms: 304930\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 304930\n  end_ms: 316140\n- text: (Win, lose draw)\n  start_ms: 316140\nplain: |-\n  Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  Maybach Music\n  Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n  Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n  Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n  Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n  Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n  Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n  I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n  Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n  Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n  Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n  So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n  Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n  Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n  In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n  For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n  Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n  On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  (I was by myself last night)\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  (Win, lose draw)\n"},{"id":29808321,"name":"Vegas Residency","trackName":"Vegas Residency","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Port of Miami 2","duration":325.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Black Bo, you know we miss you\nJ.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\nM-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\nSince everybody wanna speak they mind\nMaybach Music\nYo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\nFor every innocent brother charged with a homicide\nWent from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\nDade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\nNever golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\nBack to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\nAnother seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\nPray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\nActresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\nDope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\nDozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\nBill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\nHeadlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\nNever rapin' women, keep it on some player time\nFacts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\nHeadshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\nBlack bottles through the night until the morning back\nFifty million up, I think I need me more than that\nRestaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\nNow I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\nI really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\nJunior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\nGo to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\nGive my people game in this Port of Miami 2\nI lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\nGivenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\nEggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\nFlorida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\nBuild a military for artists when they wanna beef\nI'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\nFuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\nDoin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\nThurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\nGo and get it just to give it to the inner city\n20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\nTook Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\nMurder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\nBoobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\nSo many niggas out here singin' songs\nThat's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\nEverybody got a role, therefore we got a job\nUntil we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nGold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\nMatching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\nPhone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\nTell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\nPapi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\nSilver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\nPyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\nEatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\nMink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\nAll my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\nBlack Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\nThe biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\nBlue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\nFuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\nCame up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\nNow it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\nIn Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\nFor my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\nHundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\nTouch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\nAh, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\nI get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\nM.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\nTestify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\nFell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\nOh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\nFacts, I'm well connected in this city life\nWe all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\nGave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\nOn body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n(I was by myself last night)\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n(Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n(Win, lose draw)","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.21] Black Bo, you know we miss you\n[00:03.47] J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n[00:07.83] M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n[00:16.65] Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n[00:20.24] Maybach Music\n[00:20.67] Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n[00:24.20] For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n[00:26.62] Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n[00:29.46] Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n[00:32.05] Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n[00:34.73] Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n[00:37.50] Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n[00:40.17] Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n[00:43.05] Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n[00:45.92] Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n[00:48.61] Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n[00:51.29] Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n[00:54.00] Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n[00:56.69] Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n[00:59.45] Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n[01:02.69] Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n[01:05.05] Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n[01:07.94] Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n[01:10.59] Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n[01:13.37] Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n[01:16.93] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[01:19.05] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[01:21.44] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[01:24.06] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[01:26.75] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[01:30.03] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[01:32.33] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[01:34.49] We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n[01:37.69] I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n[01:40.80] Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n[01:43.13] Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n[01:45.93] Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n[01:48.58] I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n[01:51.56] Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n[01:54.03] Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n[01:57.10] Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n[01:59.86] Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n[02:02.59] I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n[02:05.09] Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n[02:07.93] Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n[02:10.65] Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n[02:13.78] 2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n[02:16.16] Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n[02:18.77] 20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n[02:21.69] Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n[02:24.17] Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n[02:26.99] Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n[02:29.70] 305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n[02:32.80] So many niggas out here singin' songs\n[02:34.93] That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n[02:37.88] Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n[02:40.54] Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n[02:43.19] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[02:46.67] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[02:48.80] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[02:51.54] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[02:54.04] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[02:57.66] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[03:03.00] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[03:05.39] Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n[03:07.61] Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n[03:10.32] Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n[03:12.95] Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n[03:15.55] Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n[03:18.50] Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n[03:21.24] Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n[03:23.73] Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n[03:26.65] Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n[03:29.39] All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n[03:32.18] Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n[03:34.97] The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n[03:37.57] Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n[03:40.31] Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n[03:43.06] Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n[03:45.73] Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n[03:49.11] In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n[03:51.25] For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n[03:54.18] Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n[03:57.35] Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n[03:59.53] Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n[04:02.39] I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n[04:05.14] M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n[04:07.83] Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n[04:10.56] Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n[04:13.24] Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n[04:16.11] Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n[04:18.81] We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n[04:21.53] Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n[04:24.13] On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n[04:27.18] (I was by myself last night)\n[04:33.35] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[04:35.42] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[04:37.87] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[04:40.59] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[04:43.37] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[04:45.99] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[04:48.58] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[04:51.28] We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n[04:54.00] (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n[05:04.93] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[05:16.14] (Win, lose draw)","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Vegas Residency\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Port of Miami 2\n  duration_ms: 325000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  start_ms: 210\n  end_ms: 3470\n- text: J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  start_ms: 3470\n  end_ms: 7830\n- text: M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  start_ms: 7830\n  end_ms: 16650\n- text: Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  start_ms: 16650\n  end_ms: 20240\n- text: Maybach Music\n  start_ms: 20240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 24200\n- text: For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  start_ms: 24200\n  end_ms: 26620\n- text: Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  start_ms: 26620\n  end_ms: 29460\n- text: Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  start_ms: 29460\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 34730\n- text: Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  start_ms: 34730\n  end_ms: 37500\n- text: Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  start_ms: 37500\n  end_ms: 40170\n- text: Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n  start_ms: 40170\n  end_ms: 43050\n- text: Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  start_ms: 43050\n  end_ms: 45920\n- text: Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  start_ms: 45920\n  end_ms: 48610\n- text: Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  start_ms: 48610\n  end_ms: 51290\n- text: Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  start_ms: 51290\n  end_ms: 54000\n- text: Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  start_ms: 54000\n  end_ms: 56690\n- text: Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n  start_ms: 56690\n  end_ms: 59450\n- text: Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  start_ms: 59450\n  end_ms: 62690\n- text: Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  start_ms: 62690\n  end_ms: 65050\n- text: Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n  start_ms: 65050\n  end_ms: 67940\n- text: Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  start_ms: 67940\n  end_ms: 70590\n- text: Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  start_ms: 70590\n  end_ms: 73370\n- text: Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n  start_ms: 73370\n  end_ms: 76930\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 76930\n  end_ms: 79050\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 79050\n  end_ms: 81440\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 81440\n  end_ms: 84060\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 84060\n  end_ms: 86750\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 86750\n  end_ms: 90030\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 90030\n  end_ms: 92330\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 92330\n  end_ms: 94490\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  start_ms: 94490\n  end_ms: 97690\n- text: I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n  start_ms: 97690\n  end_ms: 100800\n- text: Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  start_ms: 100800\n  end_ms: 103130\n- text: Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  start_ms: 103130\n  end_ms: 105930\n- text: Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  start_ms: 105930\n  end_ms: 108580\n- text: I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  start_ms: 108580\n  end_ms: 111560\n- text: Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  start_ms: 111560\n  end_ms: 114030\n- text: Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  start_ms: 114030\n  end_ms: 117100\n- text: Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n  start_ms: 117100\n  end_ms: 119860\n- text: Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n  start_ms: 119860\n  end_ms: 122590\n- text: I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  start_ms: 122590\n  end_ms: 125090\n- text: Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  start_ms: 125090\n  end_ms: 127930\n- text: Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n  start_ms: 127930\n  end_ms: 130650\n- text: Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  start_ms: 130650\n  end_ms: 133780\n- text: 2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  start_ms: 133780\n  end_ms: 136160\n- text: Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  start_ms: 136160\n  end_ms: 138770\n- text: 20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n  start_ms: 138770\n  end_ms: 141690\n- text: Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n  start_ms: 141690\n  end_ms: 144170\n- text: Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  start_ms: 144170\n  end_ms: 146990\n- text: Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  start_ms: 146990\n  end_ms: 149700\n- text: 305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n  start_ms: 149700\n  end_ms: 152800\n- text: So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  start_ms: 152800\n  end_ms: 154930\n- text: That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  start_ms: 154930\n  end_ms: 157880\n- text: Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  start_ms: 157880\n  end_ms: 160540\n- text: Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n  start_ms: 160540\n  end_ms: 163190\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 163190\n  end_ms: 166670\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 166670\n  end_ms: 168800\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 168800\n  end_ms: 171540\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 171540\n  end_ms: 174040\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 174040\n  end_ms: 177660\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 177660\n  end_ms: 183000\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 183000\n  end_ms: 185390\n- text: Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  start_ms: 185390\n  end_ms: 187610\n- text: Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  start_ms: 187610\n  end_ms: 190320\n- text: Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n  start_ms: 190320\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 195550\n- text: Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  start_ms: 195550\n  end_ms: 198500\n- text: Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  start_ms: 198500\n  end_ms: 201240\n- text: Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  start_ms: 201240\n  end_ms: 203730\n- text: Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n  start_ms: 203730\n  end_ms: 206650\n- text: Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  start_ms: 206650\n  end_ms: 209390\n- text: All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  start_ms: 209390\n  end_ms: 212180\n- text: Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  start_ms: 212180\n  end_ms: 214970\n- text: The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  start_ms: 214970\n  end_ms: 217570\n- text: Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  start_ms: 217570\n  end_ms: 220310\n- text: Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  start_ms: 220310\n  end_ms: 223060\n- text: Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  start_ms: 223060\n  end_ms: 225730\n- text: Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n  start_ms: 225730\n  end_ms: 229110\n- text: In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n  start_ms: 229110\n  end_ms: 231250\n- text: For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  start_ms: 231250\n  end_ms: 234180\n- text: Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  start_ms: 234180\n  end_ms: 237350\n- text: Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  start_ms: 237350\n  end_ms: 239530\n- text: Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  start_ms: 239530\n  end_ms: 242390\n- text: I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  start_ms: 242390\n  end_ms: 245140\n- text: M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  start_ms: 245140\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250560\n- text: Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  start_ms: 250560\n  end_ms: 253240\n- text: Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  start_ms: 253240\n  end_ms: 256110\n- text: Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  start_ms: 256110\n  end_ms: 258810\n- text: We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  start_ms: 258810\n  end_ms: 261530\n- text: Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n  start_ms: 261530\n  end_ms: 264130\n- text: On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  start_ms: 264130\n  end_ms: 267180\n- text: (I was by myself last night)\n  start_ms: 267180\n  end_ms: 273350\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 273350\n  end_ms: 275420\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 275420\n  end_ms: 277870\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 277870\n  end_ms: 280590\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 280590\n  end_ms: 283370\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 283370\n  end_ms: 285990\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 285990\n  end_ms: 288580\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 288580\n  end_ms: 291280\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  start_ms: 291280\n  end_ms: 294000\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  start_ms: 294000\n  end_ms: 304930\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 304930\n  end_ms: 316140\n- text: (Win, lose draw)\n  start_ms: 316140\nplain: |-\n  Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  Maybach Music\n  Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n  Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n  Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n  Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n  Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n  Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n  I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n  Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n  Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n  Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n  So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n  Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n  Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n  In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n  For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n  Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n  On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  (I was by myself last night)\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  (Win, lose draw)\n"},{"id":27323866,"name":"Vegas Residency","trackName":"Vegas Residency","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Port of Miami 2","duration":275.565714,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Black Bo, you know we miss you\nJ.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\nM-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\nSince everybody wanna speak they mind\nMaybach Music\nYo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\nFor every innocent brother charged with a homicide\nWent from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\nDade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\nNever golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\nBack to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\nAnother seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\nPray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\nActresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\nDope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\nDozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\nBill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\nHeadlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\nNever rapin' women, keep it on some player time\nFacts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\nHeadshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\nBlack bottles through the night until the morning back\nFifty million up, I think I need me more than that\nRestaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\nNow I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\nI really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\nJunior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\nGo to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\nGive my people game in this Port of Miami 2\nI lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\nGivenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\nEggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\nFlorida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\nBuild a military for artists when they wanna beef\nI'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\nFuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\nDoin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\nThurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\nGo and get it just to give it to the inner city\n20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\nTook Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\nMurder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\nBoobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\nSo many niggas out here singin' songs\nThat's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\nEverybody got a role, therefore we got a job\nUntil we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nGold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\nMatching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\nPhone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\nTell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\nPapi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\nSilver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\nPyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\nEatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\nMink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\nAll my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\nBlack Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\nThe biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\nBlue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\nFuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\nCame up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\nNow it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\nIn Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\nFor my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\nHundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\nTouch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\nAh, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\nI get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\nM.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\nTestify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\nFell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\nOh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\nFacts, I'm well connected in this city life\nWe all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\nGave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\nOn body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n(I was by myself last night)\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n(Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n(Win, lose draw)","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.21] Black Bo, you know we miss you\n[00:03.47] J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n[00:07.83] M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n[00:16.65] Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n[00:20.24] Maybach Music\n[00:20.67] Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n[00:24.20] For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n[00:26.62] Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n[00:29.46] Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n[00:32.05] Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n[00:34.73] Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n[00:37.50] Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n[00:40.17] Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n[00:43.05] Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n[00:45.92] Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n[00:48.61] Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n[00:51.29] Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n[00:54.00] Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n[00:56.69] Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n[00:59.45] Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n[01:02.69] Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n[01:05.05] Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n[01:07.94] Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n[01:10.59] Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n[01:13.37] Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n[01:16.93] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[01:19.05] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[01:21.44] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[01:24.06] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[01:26.75] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[01:30.03] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[01:32.33] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[01:34.49] We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n[01:37.69] I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n[01:40.80] Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n[01:43.13] Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n[01:45.93] Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n[01:48.58] I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n[01:51.56] Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n[01:54.03] Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n[01:57.10] Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n[01:59.86] Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n[02:02.59] I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n[02:05.09] Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n[02:07.93] Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n[02:10.65] Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n[02:13.78] 2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n[02:16.16] Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n[02:18.77] 20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n[02:21.69] Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n[02:24.17] Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n[02:26.99] Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n[02:29.70] 305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n[02:32.80] So many niggas out here singin' songs\n[02:34.93] That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n[02:37.88] Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n[02:40.54] Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n[02:43.19] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[02:46.67] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[02:48.80] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[02:51.54] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[02:54.04] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[02:57.66] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[03:03.00] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[03:05.39] Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n[03:07.61] Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n[03:10.32] Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n[03:12.95] Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n[03:15.55] Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n[03:18.50] Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n[03:21.24] Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n[03:23.73] Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n[03:26.65] Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n[03:29.39] All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n[03:32.18] Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n[03:34.97] The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n[03:37.57] Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n[03:40.31] Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n[03:43.06] Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n[03:45.73] Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n[03:49.11] In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n[03:51.25] For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n[03:54.18] Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n[03:57.35] Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n[03:59.53] Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n[04:02.39] I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n[04:05.14] M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n[04:07.83] Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n[04:10.56] Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n[04:13.24] Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n[04:16.11] Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n[04:18.81] We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n[04:21.53] Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n[04:24.13] On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n[04:27.18] (I was by myself last night)\n[04:33.35] I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[04:35.42] Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[04:37.87] 'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[04:40.59] Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[04:43.37] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[04:45.99] We could meet up out in Vegas\n[04:48.58] I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[04:51.28] We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n[04:54.00] (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n[05:04.93] (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[05:16.14] (Win, lose draw)","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Vegas Residency\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Port of Miami 2\n  duration_ms: 275566\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  start_ms: 210\n  end_ms: 3470\n- text: J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  start_ms: 3470\n  end_ms: 7830\n- text: M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  start_ms: 7830\n  end_ms: 16650\n- text: Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  start_ms: 16650\n  end_ms: 20240\n- text: Maybach Music\n  start_ms: 20240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 24200\n- text: For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  start_ms: 24200\n  end_ms: 26620\n- text: Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  start_ms: 26620\n  end_ms: 29460\n- text: Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  start_ms: 29460\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 34730\n- text: Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  start_ms: 34730\n  end_ms: 37500\n- text: Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  start_ms: 37500\n  end_ms: 40170\n- text: Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n  start_ms: 40170\n  end_ms: 43050\n- text: Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  start_ms: 43050\n  end_ms: 45920\n- text: Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  start_ms: 45920\n  end_ms: 48610\n- text: Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  start_ms: 48610\n  end_ms: 51290\n- text: Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  start_ms: 51290\n  end_ms: 54000\n- text: Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  start_ms: 54000\n  end_ms: 56690\n- text: Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n  start_ms: 56690\n  end_ms: 59450\n- text: Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  start_ms: 59450\n  end_ms: 62690\n- text: Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  start_ms: 62690\n  end_ms: 65050\n- text: Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n  start_ms: 65050\n  end_ms: 67940\n- text: Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  start_ms: 67940\n  end_ms: 70590\n- text: Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  start_ms: 70590\n  end_ms: 73370\n- text: Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n  start_ms: 73370\n  end_ms: 76930\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 76930\n  end_ms: 79050\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 79050\n  end_ms: 81440\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 81440\n  end_ms: 84060\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 84060\n  end_ms: 86750\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 86750\n  end_ms: 90030\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 90030\n  end_ms: 92330\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 92330\n  end_ms: 94490\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  start_ms: 94490\n  end_ms: 97690\n- text: I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n  start_ms: 97690\n  end_ms: 100800\n- text: Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  start_ms: 100800\n  end_ms: 103130\n- text: Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  start_ms: 103130\n  end_ms: 105930\n- text: Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  start_ms: 105930\n  end_ms: 108580\n- text: I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  start_ms: 108580\n  end_ms: 111560\n- text: Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  start_ms: 111560\n  end_ms: 114030\n- text: Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  start_ms: 114030\n  end_ms: 117100\n- text: Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n  start_ms: 117100\n  end_ms: 119860\n- text: Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n  start_ms: 119860\n  end_ms: 122590\n- text: I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  start_ms: 122590\n  end_ms: 125090\n- text: Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  start_ms: 125090\n  end_ms: 127930\n- text: Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n  start_ms: 127930\n  end_ms: 130650\n- text: Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  start_ms: 130650\n  end_ms: 133780\n- text: 2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  start_ms: 133780\n  end_ms: 136160\n- text: Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  start_ms: 136160\n  end_ms: 138770\n- text: 20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n  start_ms: 138770\n  end_ms: 141690\n- text: Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n  start_ms: 141690\n  end_ms: 144170\n- text: Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  start_ms: 144170\n  end_ms: 146990\n- text: Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  start_ms: 146990\n  end_ms: 149700\n- text: 305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n  start_ms: 149700\n  end_ms: 152800\n- text: So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  start_ms: 152800\n  end_ms: 154930\n- text: That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  start_ms: 154930\n  end_ms: 157880\n- text: Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  start_ms: 157880\n  end_ms: 160540\n- text: Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n  start_ms: 160540\n  end_ms: 163190\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 163190\n  end_ms: 166670\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 166670\n  end_ms: 168800\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 168800\n  end_ms: 171540\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 171540\n  end_ms: 174040\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 174040\n  end_ms: 177660\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 177660\n  end_ms: 183000\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 183000\n  end_ms: 185390\n- text: Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  start_ms: 185390\n  end_ms: 187610\n- text: Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  start_ms: 187610\n  end_ms: 190320\n- text: Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n  start_ms: 190320\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 195550\n- text: Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  start_ms: 195550\n  end_ms: 198500\n- text: Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  start_ms: 198500\n  end_ms: 201240\n- text: Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  start_ms: 201240\n  end_ms: 203730\n- text: Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n  start_ms: 203730\n  end_ms: 206650\n- text: Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  start_ms: 206650\n  end_ms: 209390\n- text: All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  start_ms: 209390\n  end_ms: 212180\n- text: Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  start_ms: 212180\n  end_ms: 214970\n- text: The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  start_ms: 214970\n  end_ms: 217570\n- text: Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  start_ms: 217570\n  end_ms: 220310\n- text: Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  start_ms: 220310\n  end_ms: 223060\n- text: Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  start_ms: 223060\n  end_ms: 225730\n- text: Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n  start_ms: 225730\n  end_ms: 229110\n- text: In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n  start_ms: 229110\n  end_ms: 231250\n- text: For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  start_ms: 231250\n  end_ms: 234180\n- text: Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  start_ms: 234180\n  end_ms: 237350\n- text: Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  start_ms: 237350\n  end_ms: 239530\n- text: Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  start_ms: 239530\n  end_ms: 242390\n- text: I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  start_ms: 242390\n  end_ms: 245140\n- text: M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  start_ms: 245140\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250560\n- text: Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  start_ms: 250560\n  end_ms: 253240\n- text: Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  start_ms: 253240\n  end_ms: 256110\n- text: Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  start_ms: 256110\n  end_ms: 258810\n- text: We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  start_ms: 258810\n  end_ms: 261530\n- text: Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n  start_ms: 261530\n  end_ms: 264130\n- text: On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  start_ms: 264130\n  end_ms: 267180\n- text: (I was by myself last night)\n  start_ms: 267180\n  end_ms: 273350\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 273350\n  end_ms: 275420\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 275420\n  end_ms: 277870\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 277870\n  end_ms: 280590\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 280590\n  end_ms: 283370\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 283370\n  end_ms: 285990\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 285990\n  end_ms: 288580\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 288580\n  end_ms: 291280\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  start_ms: 291280\n  end_ms: 294000\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  start_ms: 294000\n  end_ms: 304930\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 304930\n  end_ms: 316140\n- text: (Win, lose draw)\n  start_ms: 316140\nplain: |-\n  Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  Maybach Music\n  Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n  Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n  Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n  Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n  Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n  Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n  I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n  Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n  Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n  Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n  So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n  Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n  Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n  In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n  For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n  Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n  On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  (I was by myself last night)\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  (Win, lose draw)\n"},{"id":38484635,"name":"Vegas Residency","trackName":"Vegas Residency","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Baldur's Gate 3 (Original Game Soundtrack)","duration":233.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Black Bo, you know we miss you\nJ.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\nM-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\nSince everybody wanna speak they mind\nMaybach Music\nYo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\nFor every innocent brother charged with a homicide\nWent from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\nDade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\nNever golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\nBack to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\nAnother seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\nPray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\nActresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\nDope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\nDozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\nBill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\nHeadlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\nNever rapin' women, keep it on some player time\nFacts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\nHeadshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\nBlack bottles through the night until the morning back\nFifty million up, I think I need me more than that\nRestaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\nNow I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\nI really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\nJunior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\nGo to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\nGive my people game in this Port of Miami 2\nI lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\nGivenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\nEggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\nFlorida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\nBuild a military for artists when they wanna beef\nI'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\nFuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\nDoin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\nThurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\nGo and get it just to give it to the inner city\n20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\nTook Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\nMurder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\nBoobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\nSo many niggas out here singin' songs\nThat's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\nEverybody got a role, therefore we got a job\nUntil we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nGold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\nMatching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\nPhone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\nTell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\nPapi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\nSilver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\nPyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\nEatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\nMink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\nAll my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\nBlack Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\nThe biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\nBlue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\nFuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\nCame up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\nNow it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\nIn Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\nFor my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\nHundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\nTouch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\nAh, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\nI get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\nM.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\nTestify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\nFell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\nOh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\nFacts, I'm well connected in this city life\nWe all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\nGave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\nOn body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n(I was by myself last night)\nI got a room that's on the highest floor\nNever switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\nHungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\nWe could meet up out in Vegas\nI'ma pull out the Vacheron\nWe could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n(Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n(Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n(Win, lose draw)","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.21]Black Bo, you know we miss you\n[00:03.47]J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n[00:07.83]M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n[00:16.65]Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n[00:20.24]Maybach Music\n[00:20.67]Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n[00:24.20]For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n[00:26.62]Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n[00:29.46]Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n[00:32.05]Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n[00:34.73]Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n[00:37.50]Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n[00:40.17]Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n[00:43.05]Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n[00:45.92]Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n[00:48.61]Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n[00:51.29]Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n[00:54.00]Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n[00:56.69]Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n[00:59.45]Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n[01:02.69]Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n[01:05.05]Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n[01:07.94]Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n[01:10.59]Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n[01:13.37]Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n[01:16.93]I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[01:19.05]Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[01:21.44]'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[01:24.06]Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[01:26.75](Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[01:30.03]We could meet up out in Vegas\n[01:32.33]I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[01:34.49]We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n[01:37.69]I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n[01:40.80]Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n[01:43.13]Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n[01:45.93]Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n[01:48.58]I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n[01:51.56]Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n[01:54.03]Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n[01:57.10]Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n[01:59.86]Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n[02:02.59]I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n[02:05.09]Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n[02:07.93]Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n[02:10.65]Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n[02:13.78]2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n[02:16.16]Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n[02:18.77]20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n[02:21.69]Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n[02:24.17]Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n[02:26.99]Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n[02:29.70]305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n[02:32.80]So many niggas out here singin' songs\n[02:34.93]That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n[02:37.88]Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n[02:40.54]Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n[02:43.19]I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[02:46.67]Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[02:48.80]'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[02:51.54]Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[02:54.04](Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[02:57.66]We could meet up out in Vegas\n[03:03.00]I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[03:05.39]Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n[03:07.61]Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n[03:10.32]Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n[03:12.95]Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n[03:15.55]Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n[03:18.50]Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n[03:21.24]Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n[03:23.73]Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n[03:26.65]Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n[03:29.39]All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n[03:32.18]Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n[03:34.97]The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n[03:37.57]Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n[03:40.31]Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n[03:43.06]Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n[03:45.73]Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n[03:49.11]In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n[03:51.25]For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n[03:54.18]Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n[03:57.35]Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n[03:59.53]Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n[04:02.39]I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n[04:05.14]M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n[04:07.83]Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n[04:10.56]Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n[04:13.24]Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n[04:16.11]Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n[04:18.81]We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n[04:21.53]Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n[04:24.13]On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n[04:27.18](I was by myself last night)\n[04:33.35]I got a room that's on the highest floor\n[04:35.42]Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n[04:37.87]'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n[04:40.59]Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n[04:43.37](Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[04:45.99]We could meet up out in Vegas\n[04:48.58]I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n[04:51.28]We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n[04:54.00](Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n[05:04.93](Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n[05:16.14](Win, lose draw)","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Vegas Residency\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Baldur's Gate 3 (Original Game Soundtrack)\n  duration_ms: 233000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  start_ms: 210\n  end_ms: 3470\n- text: J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  start_ms: 3470\n  end_ms: 7830\n- text: M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  start_ms: 7830\n  end_ms: 16650\n- text: Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  start_ms: 16650\n  end_ms: 20240\n- text: Maybach Music\n  start_ms: 20240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 24200\n- text: For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  start_ms: 24200\n  end_ms: 26620\n- text: Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  start_ms: 26620\n  end_ms: 29460\n- text: Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  start_ms: 29460\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 34730\n- text: Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  start_ms: 34730\n  end_ms: 37500\n- text: Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  start_ms: 37500\n  end_ms: 40170\n- text: Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n  start_ms: 40170\n  end_ms: 43050\n- text: Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  start_ms: 43050\n  end_ms: 45920\n- text: Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  start_ms: 45920\n  end_ms: 48610\n- text: Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  start_ms: 48610\n  end_ms: 51290\n- text: Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  start_ms: 51290\n  end_ms: 54000\n- text: Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  start_ms: 54000\n  end_ms: 56690\n- text: Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n  start_ms: 56690\n  end_ms: 59450\n- text: Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  start_ms: 59450\n  end_ms: 62690\n- text: Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  start_ms: 62690\n  end_ms: 65050\n- text: Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n  start_ms: 65050\n  end_ms: 67940\n- text: Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  start_ms: 67940\n  end_ms: 70590\n- text: Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  start_ms: 70590\n  end_ms: 73370\n- text: Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n  start_ms: 73370\n  end_ms: 76930\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 76930\n  end_ms: 79050\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 79050\n  end_ms: 81440\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 81440\n  end_ms: 84060\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 84060\n  end_ms: 86750\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 86750\n  end_ms: 90030\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 90030\n  end_ms: 92330\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 92330\n  end_ms: 94490\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  start_ms: 94490\n  end_ms: 97690\n- text: I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n  start_ms: 97690\n  end_ms: 100800\n- text: Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  start_ms: 100800\n  end_ms: 103130\n- text: Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  start_ms: 103130\n  end_ms: 105930\n- text: Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  start_ms: 105930\n  end_ms: 108580\n- text: I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  start_ms: 108580\n  end_ms: 111560\n- text: Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  start_ms: 111560\n  end_ms: 114030\n- text: Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  start_ms: 114030\n  end_ms: 117100\n- text: Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n  start_ms: 117100\n  end_ms: 119860\n- text: Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n  start_ms: 119860\n  end_ms: 122590\n- text: I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  start_ms: 122590\n  end_ms: 125090\n- text: Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  start_ms: 125090\n  end_ms: 127930\n- text: Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n  start_ms: 127930\n  end_ms: 130650\n- text: Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  start_ms: 130650\n  end_ms: 133780\n- text: 2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  start_ms: 133780\n  end_ms: 136160\n- text: Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  start_ms: 136160\n  end_ms: 138770\n- text: 20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n  start_ms: 138770\n  end_ms: 141690\n- text: Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n  start_ms: 141690\n  end_ms: 144170\n- text: Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  start_ms: 144170\n  end_ms: 146990\n- text: Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  start_ms: 146990\n  end_ms: 149700\n- text: 305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n  start_ms: 149700\n  end_ms: 152800\n- text: So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  start_ms: 152800\n  end_ms: 154930\n- text: That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  start_ms: 154930\n  end_ms: 157880\n- text: Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  start_ms: 157880\n  end_ms: 160540\n- text: Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n  start_ms: 160540\n  end_ms: 163190\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 163190\n  end_ms: 166670\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 166670\n  end_ms: 168800\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 168800\n  end_ms: 171540\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 171540\n  end_ms: 174040\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 174040\n  end_ms: 177660\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 177660\n  end_ms: 183000\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 183000\n  end_ms: 185390\n- text: Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  start_ms: 185390\n  end_ms: 187610\n- text: Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  start_ms: 187610\n  end_ms: 190320\n- text: Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n  start_ms: 190320\n  end_ms: 192950\n- text: Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  start_ms: 192950\n  end_ms: 195550\n- text: Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  start_ms: 195550\n  end_ms: 198500\n- text: Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  start_ms: 198500\n  end_ms: 201240\n- text: Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  start_ms: 201240\n  end_ms: 203730\n- text: Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n  start_ms: 203730\n  end_ms: 206650\n- text: Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  start_ms: 206650\n  end_ms: 209390\n- text: All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  start_ms: 209390\n  end_ms: 212180\n- text: Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  start_ms: 212180\n  end_ms: 214970\n- text: The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  start_ms: 214970\n  end_ms: 217570\n- text: Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  start_ms: 217570\n  end_ms: 220310\n- text: Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  start_ms: 220310\n  end_ms: 223060\n- text: Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  start_ms: 223060\n  end_ms: 225730\n- text: Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n  start_ms: 225730\n  end_ms: 229110\n- text: In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n  start_ms: 229110\n  end_ms: 231250\n- text: For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  start_ms: 231250\n  end_ms: 234180\n- text: Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  start_ms: 234180\n  end_ms: 237350\n- text: Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  start_ms: 237350\n  end_ms: 239530\n- text: Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  start_ms: 239530\n  end_ms: 242390\n- text: I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  start_ms: 242390\n  end_ms: 245140\n- text: M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  start_ms: 245140\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250560\n- text: Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  start_ms: 250560\n  end_ms: 253240\n- text: Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  start_ms: 253240\n  end_ms: 256110\n- text: Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  start_ms: 256110\n  end_ms: 258810\n- text: We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  start_ms: 258810\n  end_ms: 261530\n- text: Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n  start_ms: 261530\n  end_ms: 264130\n- text: On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  start_ms: 264130\n  end_ms: 267180\n- text: (I was by myself last night)\n  start_ms: 267180\n  end_ms: 273350\n- text: I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  start_ms: 273350\n  end_ms: 275420\n- text: Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  start_ms: 275420\n  end_ms: 277870\n- text: '''Cause you won''t get a receipt, that''s when you sell your soul'\n  start_ms: 277870\n  end_ms: 280590\n- text: Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  start_ms: 280590\n  end_ms: 283370\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 283370\n  end_ms: 285990\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas\n  start_ms: 285990\n  end_ms: 288580\n- text: I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  start_ms: 288580\n  end_ms: 291280\n- text: We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  start_ms: 291280\n  end_ms: 294000\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  start_ms: 294000\n  end_ms: 304930\n- text: (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  start_ms: 304930\n  end_ms: 316140\n- text: (Win, lose draw)\n  start_ms: 316140\nplain: |-\n  Black Bo, you know we miss you\n  J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n  M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music\n  Since everybody wanna speak they mind\n  Maybach Music\n  Yo, watchin' Kanye interview, feel like I wanna cry\n  For every innocent brother charged with a homicide\n  Went from battle raps to now we wearin' M.A.G.A. hats\n  Dade County, nigga, mansions up in Tamarac\n  Never golfin' with the Trumps and I give you my word\n  Back to comin' out the trunk, chargin' 20 a bird\n  Another seizure, so I woke up in intensive care\n  Pray you treat a poor man like he was a millionaire\n  Actresses comin' to see me like a movie premiere\n  Dope boys show me love just for keepin' it trill\n  Dozen lawyers on the team, I'd rather keep 'em close\n  Bill Cosby dead in prison, I could see the quotes\n  Headlines when them white boys get to pay a fine\n  Never rapin' women, keep it on some player time\n  Facts, hate and pray you catch a heart attack\n  Headshot, guess who did it, where the warrants at?\n  Black bottles through the night until the morning back\n  Fifty million up, I think I need me more than that\n  Restaurants, I bought me fifty and they do they thing\n  Now I'm into sports, I think I really need a team\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  I really needed doc to see me dealin' with these seizures\n  Junior Seau, concussion, suicidal every season\n  Go to hell and that's exactly where I'm going to\n  Give my people game in this Port of Miami 2\n  I lost some weight, and now designers wanna get to know me\n  Givenchy poster boy, Naomi tryna get up on me\n  Eggs Benedict, a G-Wagen for my tenderoni\n  Florida Lotto wishes for bitches I get triggered on 'em\n  Build a military for artists when they wanna beef\n  I'm the Kim Dotcom up in K.O.D\n  Fuck 'em on the faucet when they in the office\n  Doin' time, I send 'em mine through correctional officers\n  Thurman Thomas, every step I take is footwork\n  2000 on the seats, a hunnid G's just for the verse\n  Go and get it just to give it to the inner city\n  20 Rolls Royces later that night in River City\n  Took Manolo, Bajas and bring it back to murder row\n  Murder one, you fuckin' other niggas murder mo'\n  Boobie boys, ya'll tell me how you heard of Zoes\n  305, First 48 they favorite episodes (shh)\n  So many niggas out here singin' songs\n  That's why them choppers hear the note and then we sing along\n  Everybody got a role, therefore we got a job\n  Until we meet up out in Vegas, and we got a mob\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  Gold triggers, still indoors in my Versace robe\n  Matching underwear, Illuminati got his soul\n  Phone ringin', Benny Medina, yeah, it's J-Lo (hola)\n  Tell her fat boy got her shoe boxes full of pesos\n  Papi Chulo, Port of Miami, keep a secret\n  Silver furs, gave you my word, now we in arenas\n  Pyramid, you call it faith, I say it's destiny\n  Eatin' with my dawgs, we just a different pedigree\n  Mink coats, it's time to drag them bitches to the floor\n  All my bitches tat my name, I gotta' feed 'em all\n  Black Bo, he was the realest, hate to send him off\n  The biggest blow I ever felt, that's from the biggest boss\n  Blue Ferrari on the corner, cousin, think it's Crip\n  Fuck a vest, pussy nigga, 'cause it's hit or miss\n  Came up in the projects, watermelon on the porch\n  Now it's Caymen Island, and wonderful nautical thots\n  In Hawaii, Zion got me livin', fuck the cost\n  For my B-day, Dr. Dre gave me another watch\n  Hundred miles and runnin', I pray it never run it's course\n  Touch a quarter million, my prayers really rubbin' off\n  Ah, I catch my breath, and holler \"Batter's up\"\n  I get the money, 'cause the stats they never mattered much\n  M.V.P. I'm from the league where niggas tattle much\n  Testify on your right hand, put 'em in a Camel Clutch\n  Fell asleep unconscious, woke up out in Myrtle Beach\n  Oh, in Vegas with pimps, niggas think they rich as me (Maybach Music)\n  Facts, I'm well connected in this city life\n  We all in double M-jumpers out on them chilly nights\n  Gave me a brick until I asked him \"What would twenty like?\"\n  On body number ten, so I rarely give good advice\n  (I was by myself last night)\n  I got a room that's on the highest floor\n  Never switch out on my nigga, no amount of dough\n  'Cause you won't get a receipt, that's when you sell your soul\n  Hungry niggas sit at home, watchin' pictures you post\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  We could meet up out in Vegas\n  I'ma pull out the Vacheron\n  We could meet up out in Vegas, nigga\n  (Win, lose, draw, lalala, lalala, lalala, lalala)\n  (Win, lose, draw, I swear I'd bet it all for you)\n  (Win, lose draw)\n"}]