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Big Homie Lyrics by Puff Daddy ft. Rick Ross & French Montana
[Hook: Diddy]
You could go to any hood, bet they know me
Rose gold pinky ring; master Rollie
Boy, you'se a little nigga; Gary Coleman
I be calling all the shots, I'm big homie
Big homie, big homie, big homie, big homie
Boy, you'se a little nigga; Gary Coleman
I be calling all the shots, I'm big homie
[Verse 1: Diddy]
I'm winning for the new b!tch, she was stunting
That pu*sy got a paper tag and it's a hundred
My bellman call me Sir Combs, I'm Richard Drummond
My Rolls Royce sprayed cologne, the fragrance money
It's Bad Boys Records, b!tch, you know I run it
Ciroc Amaretto coming, them b!tches love it
I show up with my jewelry on and never doubt it
You show up with your jewelry on and leave without it
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Diddy]
Diddy go to any hood, big Rollie
Top down on any block, niggas know me
The only one that's topping Forbes, I'm getting lonely
See us out here racing yachts like ''f*ck the police''
Bugatti swerving lane to lane, we getting money
Once promoter say my name, fly b!tches coming
These ratchet b!tches love a nigga so cough your chick in
More 80's than the 80's, nigga, I'm money mention
I'm money mention
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
My b!tches get the Christians, nigga, [?]
My b!tches get the [?], nigga, they hold the weapons
My b!tches get the Range Rovers, that's for affection
My b!tches get the realest nigga, she's my reflection
I make my b!tches traffic dope, that's my profession
She swallow dope and looking pregnant, time for c-section
Thank God your pockets where I'm from, here block, they bless us
50 mill a meter drum, go get them stretchers
Get them stretchers
[Hook]
