Supreme Lyrics - Mastermind - Rick Ross

I just left the New United States, embassy 

Somewhere in Georgia it's 109 rooms 

I saw 30 bitches and 30 rooms and I was on the wrong side of the house 

Anytime me and Scott Scorch get together you gotta call us the Illuminati 

Whenever you see the G it represents God and geometry 

That's what the stencil's for 

I'ma tell you never be with them 

Nah, I'm just fuckin' with you 

Aye, Scott, I'm just fuckin' with you, baby 

Yo 

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Speeding in the Ghost on the phone with jewlers 

My new bitch out of D.C., call me Ricky the Ruler 

Gotta gather my concentration while counting my stacks 

I got eight car notes and just lost me a pack 

On the beach, I'm up and down, women jocking my ride 

300 horses in this bitch, need a jockey inside 

False floors for firearms is how you should ride 

Tried to murder me while in mine so that's how I survived 

My deal with Def Jam just set me for life 

Wanted to chapel the the BM, man, I'm just rolling the dice 

Big numbers, I'm John Wall, I'm balling tonight 

Just joking, my sense of humor is like one of a kind 

Got them gangstes who on my line that'll blow out your mind 

Got them gangstes who on my line that'll blow out your mind 

Got them gangstes who on my line that'll blow out your mind 

Got them gangstes who on my line that'll blow out your mind 

Photos 

Tell me it's real 

Tell me this is real, baby 

How does it feel? 

How does it feel? 

Geechi Liberace on riches and bitch 

Charm city boys get a whole city of brick 

Through the wire we wetting niggas, set the shit on fire 

My bitch smiling I wanna bet, now we on Fisher Island 

Panamera with Tony Jacob, BK's full of paper 

Made a killing on my [?] every shooter 

My niggas, we grew apart, they joined the rival gang 

Caught them slipping, gave them a pass throwing pistols at surviving gang 

Next time boss gotta turn his back on 'em 

Letting young boys *brrrrat* on 'em 

Facts, never find me with the fake look 

Trapping little Davis, bitch, just take me to the cakebook 

Black bottles, boy, that's how our case of ace look 

Tell me it's real, I wanna know 

How does it feel, yeah, how does it feel? 

Clean Maybach, but it's filthy as shit 

They partitioning for the women, how busy we get 

From the scotch, the large mop, bet the linking feel 

It's all a dream and never wake me up until it's real 

Duffle bags, that's for the homie when he coming home 

He never told and he never used the telephone 

He on swole and that nigga need a telephone 

In a Range Rover and a real nigga got it for him 

You wanna know how does it feel 

I know, I bet it must feel so real 

Tell me it's real, I wanna know 

How does it feel to be so real= 

You know when hanging with billion dollar niggas 

One of the perks is getting to meet all these billion dollar bitches 

I just met a bitch who never gets jetlag 

And spent 10 thousand dollars on not her best bag 

You underdig that