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Rick Ross Takes Direct Shots At Birdman On “Idols Become Rivals”

Rick Ross released his new album Rather You Than Me today, and one song on the project has the Internet talking.


On “Idols Become Rivals,” Ross addresses his issues with Cash Money Records head Birdman.

 Rozay raps on the track:

Catholic record labels, n-ggas getting raped, boy. Birdman’s a priest, moans in his synagogue. Publishing a sin, repent, forgive me, Lord. Shots fired, home invasion out on Palm Isle. Red beam detonators, who the bomb now?

Before Rather You Than Me dropped, Ross showed love to Lil Wayne. The Cash Money signed artist has been in a legal battle with Birdman over royalties and other unpaid money.

Ross wrote on IG:

The Level of respect and Love that I have for WAYNE makes it hard to sit back and not speak on the situation.The streets need you.Being a Boss means having the courage to say the things everybody thinking but scared to say.I can’t wait for you to hear it. Midnight.

Wayne returned the love on Twitter, writing:

dam big bro that msg hit me in the heart and put the motivation on automatik start. I needed that. 1 boss 2 another

 
[Skit: Chris Rock] Yo this Chris Rock! I’m in here with my man Ricky Rozay. We in here drinkin’ this Belaire Rose. That’s how we do it. That’s all we do, Belaire Rose! Eatin’ Wingstop, what you know about Wingstop, nigga? You don’t know nothin’ about no Wingstop. You can’t handle this, nigga, you can’t handle, sit down in the corner, shut the fuck up and take notes, bitch. Just take notes

[Intro: Rick Ross] I used to see niggas on TV, man
I used to be like, “Yo them niggas so blessed, you know what I’m sayin’?”
If I had that opportunity, you know what I’m sayin’?
(Maybach Music)
(Black Metaphor)


[Verse 1: Rick Ross] Damn, I grew up on that Cash Money
Bling bling, was well known to flash money

Hit the liquor store, after my Vic authority
Quick to switch a bitch up, pick up me a thicker shorty
Pistol on me, nigga, ain’t no pickin’ on me
We veterans so it’s better if you go get your army
A thug holiday is where your body lay
Me and Trick Daddy come from a common place

So us gettin’ money, that’s just a conversation
It’s so hard stayin’ rich and miss the confrontations
Cigars in the Oval Office, Ronald Reagan
Heard Barack Obama whisper as-salāmu ʿalaykum
Live for the moment, die for the streets
Bible on the dash, kilos on the seat
I used to see you niggas on my TV screen
And wondered what was life like, was it all a dream?
And then I met you out on LiveNation dates
Came to the realization that your watch was fake
Damn… you nearly broke my heart
I really thought you niggas really owned them cars

[Interlude: Rick Ross] I used to look up to you, nigga, uh

[Verse 2: Rick Ross] Hard to point a finger when you live a life of sin
I’ma bring my niggas with me if I lose or win
Bought a fleet of cars, let the bitches tag along
This little thing of ours, not the ones to tattle on
Omerta the code, Met Ball, parties with Vogue
Still blowin’ thick smoke while you powder your nose
Such a head rush until the day the feds rush
That’s when you niggas wish you put your bread up
Leased whips, bad blood, that shit’ll sink ships
Fast money comin’ slow, you better think quick
Rap game, so much fuck shit done
That’s why this .45 in my Trukfit trunks
Fuck a skateboard, I went and got a Wraith, boy
Catholic record labels, niggas gettin’ raped, boy
Birdman’s a priest, moans in his synagogue

Publishin’ is a sin, repent, forgive me, Lord
Shots fired, home invasion out on Palm Isle
Red beam detonators, who the bomb now?
Look you in your eyes, nigga, ‘fore I say good night
And pray that Mannie Fresh’ll get to see the light

[Interlude: Rick Ross] Damn, Stunna, I loved you, nigga
Hate it came to this

(Maybach Music)

[Verse 3: Rick Ross] You stole them boys pub and bought a foreclosure
Scott Storch demons in it, which is more poison

I handed over records, never charged a coin
But could sense the sentiment, I’m talkin’ all along
All Miami issues, Rozay handle for him
Same way Big Ducky do for me in California

Never slippin’, got relationships with the trillest niggas
Tony Draper, J Prince and ever Jimmy Henchmen
Plenty killers and I know that Diddy with it
Tyga, chinchilla, really ain’t no penny pinchin’
Knew that you would never visit BG
Turk came home, take that boy a three piece

Shootin’ dope, usin’ coke, movin’ like you the Folks
Sacrificin’ half our life for your new music cult
You would give us self esteem and motivate our drive
But was in our pockets by the time we count to five
I pray you find the kindness in your heart for Wayne
His entire life, he gave you what there was to gain
I watched this whole debacle so I’m part to blame

Last request, can all producers please get paid?

[Outro: Rick Ross] Can’t believe this shit, homie
I still love you, nigga
How the fuck, nigga, you touch half a billion, nigga
And your team starvin’, nigga?
You on an island, nigga, you came to my city, nigga
I let you in my city, nigga
And what hurt me the most, nigga
Is how you did my brother Khaled, nigga
Khaled was loyal to you, nigga
The pain I seen in my brother’s eye, nigga
FaceTimin’ my nigga, nigga, he took that to the chin, nigga

That’s why my nigga blessed!
That’s why my nigga Khaled blessed!
You put my nigga in the hole, homie
I don’t feel you for that, my nigga
That shit hurt me, you under-dig? Umm
It’s painful what you see real niggas do
When they get the paper, when they get the bag
You can’t never forget ’bout lil bruh and them
I’ll never forget ’bout lil bruh and them
Lil bruh and them, always remember
Lil bruh and them, this for lil bruh and them
Stunna

 

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