Stack On My Belt

[Intro: Takbar] Self Made niggas man, you already know I remember we use to watch the coke drop Now a nigga crib got a boat dock MMG Navy nigga, high tide sellers D.C. Air Force, G5s are better You already know nigga All gold sky-dwellers, fly nigga shit Belaire sippin', Ciroc pissin', foreign car dippin' Young black millionaires nigga, we build the empires [Chorus: Rick Ross] 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, that's for you bitches who stalking A half a mil' on the car, that's for you niggas who 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's how I blew your deposits Stack on the belt, double M, this shit popping [Verse 1: Rick Ross] Spend a stack on my belt, got bitches asking my name Spend a stack on the belt, she like fuck how we came Double R in the front, young niggas stay in your lane Spend a stack on my belt, don't even ask 'bout the chain Spend a stack on the belt, cause I knew she a wife Spend a stack on the belt, cause my foolies on time Spend a stack on the belt, I got your bitch on my mind Huh, the world is mine (M-M-M-Maybach Music) [Chorus: Rick Ross] 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, that's for you bitches who stalking A half a mil' on the car, that's for you niggas who 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's how I blew your deposits Stack on the belt, double M, this shit popping [Verse 2: Wale] Spend a stack on my belt, better tell these rappers to chill Hold up, that's Hermes, more H than a B-more trap, that's for real And I got Mosquino, ye ain't know that R.I.P. flow? Here it go Let's have a freak show with three shones And we don't need no more help That Givenchy go for three, just me, Rozay and the Gleesh I make these bitches suck on seeds You make them suck on they teeth, let's get it Ralph, clout, we out, they bounce We here, at LIV, your bitch, her mouth Stack on the belt, just know that's nothing to me My soldiers real in the field, you WWE Of course we see 'em punks faking But we leave them slumped, shaking Don't believe y'all Kane stories, I should leave y'all undertaking A stack on my belt, 250 my ride Went from renting these muh'fuckers to owning four with no miles I pray my soul is intact, passion in the bulk of my rhyme And when I hit that Heat game, I'm this close to LeBron I'm gone [Chorus: Rick Ross] 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, that's for you bitches are stalking A half a mil' on the car, that's for you niggas who 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 [Verse 3: Whole Slab] I'm burning a bag, I'm swerving Maybach I Versace'd my belt, I done Hermes my flag Got a stack 'round my waist, keep my bitch on a leash She gon' eat this head up, on this dick she gon' feast Tom Ford with the pleats, my blazer is plaid Red hoes in my stable, yeah my babies is bad Just spent a stack on my belt, now she calling me father Stingray Balenciagas, giving mollies to models I manage these strippers, Giuseppe's with zippers Playing with the whole slab, nigga started with nickels Rose gold on my wrist, rose gold on my shades Spend a stack on my belt, a hun'dun on my face [Verse 4: Birdman] 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, ten at the bar Blow a mil' on a whip, serving niggas that raw Spend a stack on the belt, Versace my kind Put five on his life, put five in his mind Spend a stack on the belt, bitch we them real niggas Plaques on the wall, born to kill nigga, blatt! [Outro: Sam Sneak & Birdman] Yah, yah, yah (Yeah) Yah, yah, stack on that belt, hoe Stack on that belt, hoe Spend a stack on the belt, hoe Got a stack for the freak show On her knees and she open like a dyke! Double M, YMCMB boy, blatt! (Maybach Music)