It's just like you to cause a scene It's just like me to tell tales I know it weighs heavy But it doesn't have to be this way Just let the stones from
down the line The more money that I'm making, the less I can call mine Well, I'm addicted to a dollar, that ain't worth a dime I'm addicted to a dollar
one lady gaga haha baby baby baby baby i anit gonna runaway runaway run run run run away Feel the adrenaline moving under my skin It's an addiction such
I'm a boss Just spent a hundred of that brown paper bag money It feels good to be Young Money, Cash Money Rehab, I'm addicted to fast money I got stacks
could leave with a wink you think i'm made of stone that the only time i ever speak my mind's when i'm clutchin' a microphone you were my own addiction
Burning in my Benz and I'm here, nigga Don't you ride with me, you have to learn it Close the curtain, nigga, we searching Search for the blunts and stone
fuck a fine hoe and candy paint the 88 Don't got no wholesale, 'cause that ain't how I wanna run it Here take these five stones and bring a nigga back
the jonesy for Jones, I?ve got a hanker for Hank Yeah, when I?m feelin? down I need them around To help me through the pain Anytime that I wanna get stoned
Go run and tell your friends my shit is wack I just don't give a fuuuuuck!! But see me on the street and duck Cause you gon' get stuck, stoned, and snuffed
Go run and tell your friends my shit is wack I just don't give a fuck But see me on the street and duck 'Cause you gon' get stuck, stoned, and snuffed
that, everyday all black Got Ciroc on deck so I?m faded off that [Chorus] [Rick Ross] Two homes on the block Each one mill and this ring on my finger is an E one deal Canary yellow stone
at the fight on my cellular Ball like Mayweather, Don King at the register I stack chedder, it's etcetera, etcetera [Meek Mill] I'm addicted to winning
lah sink in On the way to home base First clown in my face is gettin' thrown out the place We rush shit, untouchable Don shit, that's nothin' new Sets with stone
on smash This is Jim Jones, he's breezin' on chrome Ya best bet is leave him alone O.G. in them stones, spent G's on them stones Now mami just send me
to go through this again They've got their hands in the air Ooh, their hands in the air And they're sinking in the quicksand like a stone Broken to
they serenade Penny for your thoughts Penny for your eyes I cross my fucking heart and I hope you die And I got an addiction to ammunition yeah yeah Well sticks and stones
