Rick Ross Champagne Moments Lyrics
Maybach Music
Fish tanks and marble floors, livin’ big and bad
N****s laugh until they hit with my official jab
Crack smoke is the exhaust from my pen and pad
Ghostwriters, they get to floss what you could’ve had
Record label takin’ a loss, are you in your bag?
You a worker wantin’ to chart, don’t make me laugh
Get to mine, tell by my watch, this a different time
Livin’ fine, I’m gettin’ high as your shit decline
Who believes he movin’ keys in his Louis Vs?
Run up on you and snatch your chain, watch you b****es bleed
Feel the pain or just describe where you really ride
Either you n****s gettin’ money or ready to die
B-I-G, or give a f**k if you Chi-Ali
You got it and you keep it tucked if you be by me
Do the job, better known as the Charles Schwab
Double R’s spread through the yard, and I swear to God
Pop a Perc’ for the field, go and count me a mill’
Kill you n****s for free, do it all for the thrill
N****s leakin’ they records when we speakin’ directly
If we keepin’ it gangsta, when you see me, you check me
White boy, I see you
I see you, yeah, check
Gettin’ bullied, don’t walk up on me ’cause the clip is fully
N****s pussy, don’t want to push me, I’m like, “Really, would he?”
Like his moves, but he never had to fight in school
Always ran, another n**** had to write your grooves
Flow is copy-and-paste, Weezy gave you the juice
Another white boy at the park wanna hang with the crew
Pulitzer Prize winner switchin’ up like dyed denim
Get incentives for all the killings while we ride rentals
Look me right in my face, he beginning to shake
Told you n****s, “Stay schemin'”, I predicted my fate
“Got more money than you”, f**k you want me to say?
Fifty mill’ for the crib, where you want me to stay?
I can shoot up the block, I got pictures to paint
Let you DM my ho, but got b****es you can’t
Let you get on my songs, it was good for your face
Now, b**** n****, it’s on, ain’t no room for debate
Pop a Perc’ for the field, go and count me a mill’
Kill you n****s for free, do it all for the thrill
N****s leakin’ they records when we speakin’ directly
If we keepin’ it gangsta, when you see me, you check me
By the way, I got a lot of respect for a lot of rappers, but I got one guy
He’s my favorite person to rap with on any song, his name is Rick Ross
Maybach Music
You ain’t never want to be a n**** anyway, n****
That’s why you had a operation to make your nose smaller than your father nose, n****
I unfollowed you, n****, ’cause you sent the motherf**kin’ cease-and-desist to French Montana, n****
You sent the police, n****, hatin’ on my dawg project
That wasn’t the same white boy that I seen, n****, when we were makin’ them early records, n****
When you were happy to be around n****s, seein’ n****s holdin’ them sticks
Yeah
You owe motherf**king Stunna your life, n****
Give Weezy some more money, n****
Give Rap-A-Lot some more money, n****
White boy
Yeah, biggest, it’s Rozay, n****
We can do it how you wanna do it, where you wanna do it, anytime you wanna do it, I’m ready
I’m ready, white boy, huh
I know you got your Dockers on with no underwear, white boy
Yeah, you had that surgery, that six-pack gone
That’s why you wearin’ that funny shit at your show, you can’t hide it, n****
White boy