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GQ’s Rick Ross Profile Is Absolutely Bonkers

Written by The Cajun Boy / 09.20.11

#5

I wondered what would happen if I smoked what he smoked. He’d smoked ten blunts since I’d been there.

“You’d just be so in touch, man, with yourself,” Ross said. “For me to be in the position I am? And I live a pretty stress-free life, man.”

Really? It seems hard to lead a stress-free life even without being a famous person.

“Man, you need to stay in touch with your marijuana more often. You know what I’m saying?”

#4

Ross loves to lend out his jewelry. Just as he loves to buy things for people. Earlier today, at Louis Vuitton, he insisted on buying belts for Spiff and Beat Billionaire, a young producer who hangs out with Ross. He wanted to buy me something as well: “You see anything you want to fuck with, compliments of Rick Ross?”

#3

That’s part of the joy Rick Ross feels in his station: to watch others partake of his abundance, and for everyone to know that the abundance comes from a single source. Now Ross announces: “We gonna go to the strip club. You feel me? Leave in about thirty minutes. Not gonna stay too long.”

Someone has already tweeted out that Ross is going to be at the strip club. So that pump has been primed. Another of Ross’s people has called ahead so that his song “Pac Man” will be playing when Ross walks in.

“I sent one of my homeys ahead to get some bottles and some singles,” he tells me. How many singles? “On a cool night like this? Probably start out with $10,000 in singles.”

#2

Spiff starts telling a story: “Hey, hey, y’all know Johnny Dang from the hood, right? The Vietnam hood! He was walking in the jungle one time, and two dudes on a moped stole his dog. So they could eat it!” Dang says it’s true.

“You ate canine before?” Ross asks. Johnny Dang nods. “What kind? German shepherd? Teacup poodle?”

Johnny Dang says, “Just a regular dog!”

#1

After everyone eats, people start disappearing. Home, to sleep. It’s impossible to get a taxi at this hour, all the way out in the super-suburbs of Atlanta. It takes an hour for one of Ross’s young rappers to be assigned the job of driving me back to my hotel. I’ll just say good-bye to Ross, I say, and be on my way. Pucci goes to look for him.

“Gotta get a rain check,” he says. Then he makes the “banging someone” gesture with his fist.

How you like him now, Kreayshawn?

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