[Intro:]
Push it to the limit!

[Ver1:]
Port of Miami, I'm importin' the candy
Ain't got nuttin to lose, we supportin' the family
Never traffic for fun, only traffic for funds
All I seen is the struggle, it's like I'm trapped in the slums
Workers were barely paid, no water, we barely bathe
There better be better days on the way that's on my daddy grave
I'm pushin it hard, I'm pushin it soft
If he pushin a line, he pushin for Ross
I waited and waited, I done ran out of patience
They hated and hated, left him slow dancin' with Satan
Fresh in my white tee, Mac-11, swear to God
I bought my first block, broke it down and tore the block apart.

[Hook:]
I push and I push (Push)
I ride and I ride (Ride)
Tryin to survive on 95
Put it all on the line (line) every drop of a dime (dime)
I be pushin them whips (whips) yep, three at time
I'm pushin it (push) I'm pushin it (push)
I'm pushin it (push) I gotta (Push it to the limit!)
I'm pushin it (push) I'm pushin it (push)
I'm pushin it (push) I gotta (Push it to the limit!).

[Ver2:]
I handle dope like a vandal off the banana boat
Bananas in our rifles, no cyphers, I'm just the man to know
I paid dues, my moves done made news
I'm smooth, my suede shoes they new like raycial's
Nobody used to speak, now e'rybody wave
You duck your momma house, you set your sister straight
I'm buildin' a dream, with elevators in it
Tailor made the linen, no gators got on my hater-vision
I see ya, I see ya suckers, I see ya clear
I know you see me in that Phantom whiter than veneers
Allergic to broke, determined to blow
On the boat we hid the work in detergent and soap
We ship it from Haiti, baby I'm whippin them babies
Let it dry, let it dry, try to whip a Mercedes
Arrangin' my Range, here to rain ya parade
You gotta push it to the limit you wanna be paid.

[Hook]

[Ver3:]
We started minute, the money matured
My money's secured, I got bunnies in Europe
My bubble be pure it cost like a hundred a pull
The world is yours, hundred million or more
Now I run the streets, they all mine
12 years overdue call it due time
I told you never roll on the soul of a soldier
You never know that dishwasher may be the beholder
Whoever thought that fat girl would grow into Oprah
Or that boy Rick Ross would be moldin' the culture
I push and push, we breakin' the mold
We push and we push, we rake in the hoes.

[Hook]