Rick Ross
Rick Ross - Diced Pineapples songtekst
Je score:
Rick Ross ft. Wale featuring Drake - Diced Pineapples Lyrics [Verse 1: Wale] Diced pineapple Tonight you shall reach a height that the sky won't catch you The highest form of my admiration I ain't no connoisseur but I'm kinda sure you will admire my taste And before the sun graze ya I'm tryin to see how deep you are And believe me shorty I ain't talking about no intimate conversation I wanna see if I can make you reach things unobtainable When I peek into your nature And I promise you my goals will exceed any physical pleasure I wanna, give you whats better than better The better my effort, the wetter her treasure The more these mere moments seem like heavens or temporary forevers Shorty get it together Diced pineapple May your love come down so my mind might have you You designed my imagination Let me redefine foreplay 'till you need five and Tell me shorty you got it baby If its not it baby, hope its progress baby Let it all drip baby If you stop that shaking, no more talking baby, no more talking baby [Verse 2: Rick Ross] Shorty so fine, pussy so fresh Diced pineapples that my baby tastes the best I nearly lost my mind, guess it was a test Swept her off her feet and went and bought her ass a Lex Paid it off cash so I never wrote a check Leave my cars at her crib I'm just stuntin' on her ex Pussy's excellent and I know it sound a mess I love to make her toes curl as I'm lickin' on her flesh uhh Sex all night, couple shots of Ciroc Crib on the water, got LeBron up the block Money ain't the thing baby, welcome to the Mark Diced pineapples, talking diamonds by the jar Bitch so bad got me wishing I could sing Her uniform Isabel Marant when you on the team Double MG them other niggas fell off, baby girl I just wanna see you well off [Hook: Drake] Call me crazy -- shit, at least you're calling Feels better when you let it out don't it girl Know its easy to get caught up in the moment When you say it cause you mad then you take it all back Then we fuck all night til things get right Then we fuck all night til things get right [Verse 3: Rick Ross] Shorty so fine, pussy so fresh Diced pineapples I just bought my girl a set I know my lifestyle wild I just do it for the set She know how to make me smile and she do it with the sex Pop bottles, make love, thug passion Red bottoms, Moncler, high fashion Belt buckles, door handles, gold plated Balmain, rich denim, out Vegas French Riviera baby girl lets take a trip I'mma trip go to Cannes, France to catch a flick Baby listen, this position is a blessing And with your permission hopefully you'll learn a lesson I'm so fly that I shouldn't even walk. She so fine she ain't even gotta talk Diced pineapples, talking diamonds by the jar She never wrote a song but I know that she's a star [Hook] [Verse 4: Wale] Something about her probably can't live without her Roll up some sour, let me kiss on a fountain Mission accomplished, you increasing your heart rate And I won't ever rest, we meet at the peak of your mountain Eager to show you, thinking that I should know you And you eager to work perfect, I can employ you Designer shit spoil you, rub you down with the oil To get on a higher tree, gonna have to climb a sequoia Hol' up, showing off some Agent Provocateur Rushing you out your drawers though patiently get you off Hate when they be too anxious though, hate when they be too dull Like to go deep but I hate to get too deeply involved How sweet is you, let me see some proof Fuck making pussy talk, I like to make it sing a tune All we need is we, we don't need no room Right now I'm trying eat, we don't need a spoon [Hook] Song Information Recorded 2011 Genre Hip hop Length 4:39 Label Maybach Music, Def Jam, Warner Bros. Records Writer Roberts II, Carl McCormick, Olubowale Akintimehin, Aubrey Graham Producer Cardiak