Miami Lyrics

Yeah we gettin' money nigga
We gettin' money nigga
We the best
It's DJ Khaled doing that
Big dog Pit Bull, Terror Squad and Yo Gotti
Rick Ross (Ross) Listen...

[Hook: with Rick Ross ad-libs]
Take me to Miami tonight
I-I-I-I wanna party in Miami tonight

[Verse 1: Yo Gotti]
Ross, yeah tell me what a hundred cost
A hundred on the watch, a hundred on the cross
Hundred thousand dollar car, now that's a whip
Hundred bullets in the clip, bout to let it rip
Hundred on the vacation, now that's a trip
I'm down there f*ckin' with them Haitians, I'm bout to
flip
A hundred thousand of them pills, a half a mill
A hundred thousand on the tab, that'll get'cha killed
A hundred hundreds, young'n he'll get'cha done
In north Memphis we be posted with a hundred guns
Yo Gotti, Triple Cs stamped on everyone
I'm back and forth to M-I-A tryin' to cop a ton

[Hook x2]

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Yo Gotti nigga tell me what the lick read
Sixteen look at me blowin' big weed
Seventeen, I stumbled across my first ki
Eighteen grand blowed in the first week
On that street shit yeah that's what we eat with
Turn a half to a whole, sell his ass the remix I get chickens in flocks, get the Benz in the box
I get plenty of shots just if he big and he box
I supply the supplier, get you higher and higher
Half a brick for the rims, that's just to admire
Yo Gotti my nigga, when you need 'em I send 'em
I'm in debt with the Lord, at least a couple million,
Ross

[Hook x2]

[Verse 3: Yo Gotti]
I ain't sold a million records or won a Grammy
But I seen a million dollars worth of nose candy
Miami, that's the home of the cheap price
Where you can ball and re-up in the same night
Watchin' "Cocaine Cowboys" like this the shit
f*ck a rap career I'd rather have a hundred bricks
Cause this real money right here, right now
I'd be two and a half platinum right now
On my way, goin' on a cocaine tour
Alabama, Atlanta, Memphis clean up to Detroit
Only a and our gat hold a hundred rounds
So you can play if you wanna nigga it's goin' down
And I don't need a manager cause I don't trust a soul
One day five birds sold just like the show
Count my own paperwork, make my own decisions
Executive produce my whole album off of movin' chicks

[Hook x2]

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