| | Luxury Tax Lyrics Artist(Band):Rick Ross
e-class I think we got a problem Yeahh... [Verse 1: Lil Wayne] Big money in this bitch if you didn't knew. Big business minus the business suit. Even I look in the mirror like is it you, And I say I must be the hottest if it isn't you. Stay fresh from my top to my tennis shoes. New coupe, no top, big tennis shoes. Never slipped, not even on the side of a swimming pool. We don't get ridiculed, We get rid of fools. They said I couldn't play football I was too small. They say I couldn't play basketball I wasn't tall. They say I couldn't play baseball at all. And now everyday of my life I ball. And they say you ain't great until someone assassinate, And I feel like M.L.K. Yeah... I have a dream to be your worst nightmare, And now meet the boss of the cartel. [Verse 2: Rick Ross] I'm a seven-nine Satan, sitting on Lorenzos. And I seem really impatient, picture the equation. People taking pictures and they really getting flagrant. Flags down my spaceship, sergeant searching for a fragrance. Yayo, Yayo, he wanna sniff the yayo, flying saucer on the hasa In the casa just to lay-low. Make more (money man) that's the model for the mob, Need a blowjob my motto, get a model for the job. Go hard, no job, hustler, no prob, poster, Nigga what finger f**k you whole squad. Forty round extendo, flipping for my kin folk Luxury tax on them packs if you didn't know Bought a new crib, niggas feeling like I hid. 3.2 but I did it for the kids. More guns than a pawn shop, Got my whole arm rocked. Keep the 760 double parked in the wrong spot. Still hustling... BOSS [Chorus: Lil Wayne] Yeah... You gotta pay for this, I remember when I used to pray for this. This, this is classic, Some shit you might never see again. And we taxin, you don't want it nigga leave it then, And we taxin, you don't want it nigga leave it then. And we ain't trying to see the pen, Like a needle in a hay stack we ain't trying to see the pin. This is a luxury tax. [Verse 3: Young Jeezy] (I don't ask them baby I just tax em baby) (Let's go) Yeah imagine this, No imagine that. Gave me my sack like, good luck getting back. (Yeah...) I'm like how the f**k I'm gonna get outta there. And if I'm not careful, Leave em the same place they find him there. And I'm a winner if I make it cross the finish line, Putting food on the table like it's dinner time. And this is what you call stereotyping by far. Can you tell me why your dog keep sniffing my car? Huh. Got the audacity to call me a liar. So what you got in your trunk? Oh, just a spare tire. You niggas talked blow, While I sold mine. Like a bad cramp, it's locking up in no time. More time in the kitchen then I spent in the studio, Gangsta paradise and I ain't talking about Coolio. Can't lie, still addicted to the odor Got a ice cold Pepsi, But still thinking Coca-Cola. Hahaha... [Chorus: Lil Wayne] [Verse 4: Trick Daddy] I'm up early in the morning, and I'm dressed in black. Hold on, every morning I get dressed in black. While your half ass, nigga my pants sag, I'm getting money, and my swag and black flagging. Million dollar status, fully automatic. Heavy on the Henny and even harder on the women. If it wasn't for rappin. I probably would pimpin and shit. Pops, my papi, has already hear me. I Tied trapping, shit sent me to prison, Got mad and went to savage so homicide came to visit. I smell gun powder, So you got one hour to come up with every damn dollar, Or your dun-dolla It cost a ball dogg, Especially when the players on your team, Consider you as the boar hog. You treat me like Shaq, And you Kobe but I ain't sayin you owe me nigga. But act like you know me nigga. If you find some error in Luxury Tax Lyrics, would you please submit your corrections to me? Thank You. Thanks to vitomachava@intra.co.mz for submitting the lyrics. Review the song Luxury Tax The area is only for review, if you want to submit the lyrics or the corrections of the lyrics, please click the link at the end of the lyrics.  Download "Rick Ross" Music | |
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