Rick Ross Lyrics: Yacht Club ft. Magazeen Lyrics

Rick Ross - Yacht Club ft. Magazeen

He not bigga den biggy bitch I'm bigger than you
just a boat a mi casa like you a milli or 2 gotta kick off your shoes
Okay lets take a cruise heres my captain now relax,
let him do what he do, okay
Who rollin spinach cuz I'm reallin the anchor
smoke up up an acre a grass wake up in jamaica, couple nautical nas,
I call my cubanos ta cop, puerto rico for women,
hit barbedos ta shop, livin larger than life
Call this the yacht club,
before ya join us bitch ya gotta get your stocks up.
she's walkin back and forth,

Shes just itchen ta fuck, then I heard her wisper,
travel the seven seas, there is no better breaze

If he indulgen jelousy his ass better breathe man overboard cuz hes goin overboard,
damn its over for him put that on my vocal cord.

JAMAICANS........ Kill all the middle men I'm the millatin gilligans
Speakin creo and gentle men as I cruise the caribean,
o lord I'm a star down in saint barths the fat tommy lee
I made out with like 8 broads but up in costa rica,
I get the most of features, she no speakay
No englay, maybe fat joe could teach her,
smokin barrels of reefer, only the yacht club,
Before ya join us bitch ya gotta get your stocks up,
travel the seven seas,
there is no better breeze when we started

Sellin keys thats just how we thought it would be,
no one agrees with me,
But thats just how it goes I'm the greeta genious no reference to the ugly clothes,
I still hustle for dope,
but no more me scuffin my soles,
make the presentation and trust me the customer sold,
I'm crusin in the gulf,
I think your so deaf, janet was in control,
because the hoe left,

JAMAICANS......... my dick a big stretch and quick ta tell a bitch fetch,
Tell you ta kiss her ass, after you bought the bitch breast,
her head above average, my head above water,
But now you could see my balace, right off the coast of florida,
I'm in ta fine fish with a slight lime twist,
Veggies on the side of course, kush appetizez,
let your mercedes chill, roll wit a navy seal, this the yacht club,
Wanna trust me your lady will, still spillen champaign, or is it merlow,
fuck it its fine wine, my bitch a vergo,
I dont do the signs unless a dollars on em,
I'm da boss a da boat, cashmeire collar on em,
Thinkin a last year and all the moneys made,
now its corporate investin amongst the other things,
No one agrees with me, but thats just how it goes,
I'm the greeta genious no refernce to the ugly clothes

More Rick Ross's lyrics