Summer Seventeen Lyrics - Rick Ross

You scared to die nigga? 

Open your eyes wide and I pray you are 

I'm out on bond so I gotta beat it 

All the dope boys say they wanna be me (boss) 

I got a lick boy, I got a lick 

2017 trust me boy, this one is it 

I used to smoke the weed until my fingers burn 

Pool of bitches fucking me, I got em' taking turns 

My nigga bought the stick but you wanna fade 

Made runnin' in the bank a residential thing 

All my niggas mad they like fuck the world 

Back to standin' on the Ave. with a couple birds 

If you a killer well I'm tryna see 

Cause calling the police the only thing free 

I had to park that purple Lamborghini​ 

And pull that Chevy back out on the cement 

I'm from the city where they kill for nothin' 

And all Renzel do is push a button 

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I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

(All my niggas! I'm talking all my niggas!) 

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

I had a quarter mil' when I was seventeen 

Quarterback and quarter keys, plus I own the team 

Rather you than me, rather me than you 

Riding in that coupe, hanging out shooting 

Glass panoramic top, I don't got no roof 

Your bitch wishing on a star 

I can see the moon 

I can count to a million with my eyes closed, and shoot a pussy with that chopper while I'm blindfolded 

Draco, draco, draco (draco), fitted cap a halo (halo) 

Activis and Faygo, no pussies on my payroll 

It's 'bout to be a cold summer, hot winter 

This year in march, I might make it rain 'til September 

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I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

I'm out on bond so I gotta beat it 

Half a million to my lawyer cause he undefeated 

Shots fired; you short of breathing 

Barefoot, cause them kids took your Adidas 

I'm keepin' fried fish up in my mama pan 

How much y'all detectives call yo' boy the son of Sam 

Zaca flesh shake up the block, that's with a hundred grand 

Put that voodoo on you niggas so that gun'll jam 

You know them niggas killers how they name ring 

You know them niggas winners how they chain swing 

All the bitches sellin' pussy charge the same thing 

Richest nigga in the hood, we call him Rain Man 

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

(All my niggas, let's go!) 

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

I want my niggas rich by summer seventeen 

Lord! I'm talking all my niggas! 

All my niggas! 

Every one of em, nigga 

Summer seventeen nigga!