Rick Ross
Rick Ross - Stack On My Belt songtekst
Je score:
Self-Made niggas man, you already know I remember we use to watch the coke dry Now a nigga crib gotta a boat dock MMG navy nigga, high tide sellers D.C. air-force, G-5s are better, you already know nigga All gold sky-dwellers, fly nigga shit Bel Air sippin', Ciroc pissin', foreign car dippin' Young black millionaires nigga, we build the empires I spend a stack on my belt, I swear you niggas are watching I gave a stack to my bitch, she the shit out the project Spend a stack on my belt, therefore you bitches are stalking A half a mill on the car, that's why you niggas are talking Spend a stack on my belt, as if you think I was flogging Spend a stack on my belt, and you could still see my boxers Spend a stack on my belt, that how I blew your deposits Stack on the belt, double M this shit popping Spend a stack on my belt, got bitches asking my name Spend a stack on the belt, she like fuck how we came Double all in the front, ya'll niggas stay in your lane Spend a stack on my belt, don't even ask 'bout the change Spend a stack on the belt, cause I knew she a wife Spend a stack on the belt, cause my fooleys on time Spend a stack on the belt, I got your bitch on my mind The world is mine Spend a stack on my belt, better tell these rappers to chill Hold up that's Earlesman, more H and I be more trap ass for real And I got mosquino, Ye know that R.I.P. flow, here go That type of freak show, with three shows that we don't need no more help That Givenchy go for three, just me Rozay and the clique I make these bitches suck on Cs, you make them suck on there teeth, let's get it Ralph, Klauph, meow, they bounce, we hit, ab-lib, your BITCH, her mouth Stack on the belt, just know that's nothing to me My soldiers real in the 'ville, you WWE Of course we see them punks faking, but we leave them slump shaking Don't believe your cane stories, I should leave ya'll undertaking A stack on my belt, 250 my ride Went from renting these mother-fuckers to owning 4 with no miles I pray my souls is in tact, passion in the bulk of my rhyme And when I hit that heat game I'm this close to LeBron I'm gone I'm burning the back, I'm swerving Maybach I Versace my belt, I done Hermes my flag Got a stack around my waist, keep my bitch on the leash She goin' eat this head up, on this dick she goin' feast Time fuck with the pleats, my place is packed Red hoes in my stable, ya my babies is bad She spent a stack on my belt, now she calling me father??? giving mollies to models I manage these strippers, Giuseppe's with zippers Playing with the whole slab, niggas started with niggas Rose gold on my wrist, rose gold on my shades Spend a stack on my belt, 100 done on my face Spend a stack on my belt, so I could stunt when I shine Get the mac off the shelf, keep these pussies in line Spend a stack on my belt, 10 at the bar Blow a mill on a whip serving niggas that raw Spend a stack on the belt, Versace my kind Put 5 on his life, put 5 in his mind Spend a stack on the belt, bitch we the real niggas Plaques on the wall, born to kill niggas Stack on that belt, ho Stack on that belt, ho Spend a stack on the belt, ho Gotta stack for the freak show, all I need is a ... Double M, YMCMB boy