Rick Ross – Porsche GT3

Rick Ross – Porsche GT3 - RS Lyrics

Porsche GT3 - RS

Rick Ross

Lyrics copied!

"Porsche GT3 - RS." - Rick Ross

Wednesday, 16 September 2026, 01:49 am

Album: Set In Stone

Track No: 11

Wake up in the morning, send a prayer to the Lord
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche
Any pressure, I'm a spin the block for my boys

Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning (Lord), send a prayer up to the Lord

Pull up to the club, I got a valet all the toys
Let her see the diamonds, then I hit her with the voice
Couple nigga with me, bitch, it's time to make a choice
Shooters move in silence, so don't make me bring the noise

Go on, get the money just to blow it is the point (point)
Never turn a rat, I rather do it in the joint (joint)
If the clique some bitches, time to go get a divorce
Pull up in the hood, paper tag on my new Porsche

Got a hundred kilos, boy, I'm fuckin' with Detroit (Detroit)
Countin' all the money, and you know I'm unemployed (no, job)
Four full pockets for the bitches I enjoyed
I got the Fentynal, pink cocaine, and the boy

Wake up in the morning, send a prayer to the Lord (Lord)
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche (Lord)
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche (Lord)
Any pressure, I'm a spin the block for my boys

Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (uh, uh, uh, uh)

KaySo daddy took the stand and told on his boy
Nigga been a rat, another police on the force
Fuck your diabetes, bitch, we kickin' in the door (boom)
I thought you dealin' dope, but, boy, you runnin' for the floor

Catch me in the kitchen for the toast, I'm whippin' yayo
Beach Boys, suck the dick on my new boat
Uh-huh (uh-huh), uh-huh (uh-huh)
Uh-huh (uh-huh), uh-huh

Wake up in the morning, send a prayer to the Lord (Lord)
Need to hit the streets, I need the money for a Porsche (Lord)
Dealin' heroin, my molly nigga call it "boy"
Pull up club, and let me time to valet all the toys

Wake up in the morning, send a prayer to the Lord (Lord)
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche (Lord)
Then I hit the streets, I need some money for a Porsche
Any pressure, I'm a spin the block for my boys (boys)

Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord (Lord)
Wake up in the morning, send a prayer up to the Lord

Writer(s): Eddie “eMIX” Hernández, Jordan Hollywood, Rick Ross, SkipOnDaBeat.

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