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)