All Birds (Instrumental) (Prod. by Beat Billionaire)

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Walk with a real [bad word] Self-made millionaire
What more could you ask for, huh?

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I'm a kamikaze in a Maserati
I'm a John Gotti, got my own army
Worth fifty million and it's all on me
Fifty on my Rollie knowing yours phony
Last problem I had, a [bad word] head-shot him
Say the word on the street is that my man got him
If I wasn't involved you wouldn't hear about him
I got Lears and all -- don't need Aaliyah problems
May she rest her soul, I got a sleeping problem
All my CDs gold but the Visa darker [bad word] child but I got a fleet of cars
Double-M this little thing of ours
Take it to the door, [bad word]  plea
Niggas layin' on your crib while your momma sleep
Home-cooked meals for the real niggas
Hot Tec 9 for you little niggas
Want to shoplift? Come and boost this
We run the [bad word] game, [bad word]  truth is
Cargo pants and my red bottoms
Talking 'bout birds you know the boy got 'em

[Hook: French Montana]
No clothes in the closet, it's all birds
No sneakers in the sneaker box, it's all birds
No luggage in the trunk, man, it's all birds
And I ain't going back -- I'mma ball first

[Verse 2: French Montana]
Anything you need know I get it cheap
My [bad word] Rozay makes millions while he can't sleep
Cars European come and see the fleet
We're commercial; come and see us if you need the street
I'mma bring it home [bad word] bet the bank
Sierra Leone all up in the link
'Bout to double up, some Mason Betha [bad word] Huddle up, round table, King Arthur [bad word] Shorty [bad word] fat, she can't stand straight
Spent your down payment on my landscape
Niggas sideways like the Phantom door
Hundred round drum sound like round of applause
Slicker than a can of grease
Paid the state in the ice, hundred grand a piece
Coke, boy, I'll be thirty for sure now
Coke [bad word] near same price as dope now