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skit #1 - rick ross lyrics

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[female on phone]
let’s call this motherf-cker and see where he at
i bailed his -ss out of jail three days ago and this n-gga ain’t called me back yet

[phone ringing twice]

[female on phone (male)]
(h-llo)
n-gga where you been, i called you like six times
(hold on, hold on b-tch, i’m in here tryna turn the soft into hard, you know what i do)
[?] i put my house and my car on loan to get your black -ss out of jail
(hold on b-tch, i wouldn’t give a f-ck if you put your momma’s insurance policy up b-tch, i’m tryna handle my business)
i don’t give a f-ck about all that sh-t, when you gon’ give me my motherf-cking money back n-gga, i want my sh-t back
i know you’re out there f-ckin’ some b-tch, you dirty d-ck -ss n-gga
(yeah b-tch and this dirty d-ck be all in your [?] -ss, b-tch
you gon’ make me get out this trunk and [?] you ho)
baby you know i’m sorry, come over here and get some of this p-ssy, you know i love you
(look at here, b-tch, if you love me so much, what we need to do is take a ride to the mortuary, dig your father up, let me get that cl-ss ring up his finger, run through his pockets and we gon’ close the casket and get up out of there, that’s street love, b-tch!)

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