Valley Of Death Lyrics - Deeper Than Rap - Rick Ross

The meek shall inherit the earth 

That's what the bible says 

Walk like a giant, talk like a tyrant 

Faith of a mustard seed, destined for a triumph 

David and Goliath, hate me or admire 

Kush burns slow as I chase my desires 

Embrace my empire, batta boy eat fire 

Guns like choirs when they sing, keep quite 

Will I get to Heaven? Turn to Psalm 27 

Lord knows when I see this monkey 

I'm gon' be the devil 

Be him 'cause I'm clever, beat him at whatever 

You never was a G, nigga, Unit ain't together 

New York's unified down south, love dat 

When we get to shine, muthafuckas where the love at? 

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Real niggas gettin' money, betta log on 

Think da games dead now? Imagine when ya dog's gone 

Imagine when this song gone 

When ya phone off, there's only one to call on 

I mean if I die today 

I could honestly say, thank you, Lord 

Thank you, Lord, thank you, Lord 

I'm bigger than a title, bigger than a name 

You could label me the biggest title in the game 

Put food on the table, fed the whole city 

Tell me who be the fool if the Feds come get me 

Better years are better when you call it trendsetter 

The world so cold hope you got a lil' sweater 

Caught a lil case but he had a lil' cheddar 

Planned out the 15, poured his life in a letter 

Photos 

Very first line he called, trick daddy stupid 

Say he got aids, tellin' people that it's lupus 

Not the one just to jump to conclusions 

I'm gettin' money, small talk can be a nuisance 

Broke chains, reminiscent to them nooses 

Sittin' on deuces, new land cruisers 

Who the fuck you callin' losers, you niggas losin' 

Look like you could use us 

When I bought my first Run DMC vinyl 

And my first 2 Live Crew cassette 

I woulda cried if I knew I would be where I'm at today 

Took me 40 minutes to walk there to buy it 

Call ya boy, A C.O. but if I really was 

When all these niggas undercover, fuckin' niggas up 

Keep it trilla, nigga never had a gun and badge 

Kept a nice, watch smokin' on a hundred sack 

Back in the day, I sold crack for some nice kicks 

Skippin' school, I saw my friend stabbed with a ice pick 

Young nigga 15 with 3 C's 

From that very day I carried on the 3 C's 

Can't criticize niggas tryna get jobs 

Better get smart, young brotha live yours 

Only live once and I got 2 kids 

And for me to feed them I get 2 gigs 

I shuffle shit, I ceo so we can bow our head 

And pray over the meatloaf 

I'm lookin' at the big picture 

Keep a bitch with cha, tryna get a bit richer 

I remember prayin' for, for me to just get the 

The opportunity to just get a record deal 

And now I sign artists 

Thank you, lord