Rick Ross - Holla At Me (Baby) lyrics

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Rick Ross - Holla At Me (Baby) lyrics

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne] Yeah you got the right one, it's Weezy f**in' Baby And if your woman lookin', I'll let the woman taste me Okay now I'm with Khaled, we whylin in Miami We got a bunch of b**hes, we pile 'em in the Phantom They follow us to Mansion but I don't mean the club I'm talking bout my crib, mama I'm trying to f** It's Cash Money Baby, It's Young Money b**h Now you can swallow that or you can s** a dick Okay, tell me sh**, Lil Wayne f** a b**h Lil' n***a, big money, big gun full of that sh** n***a I ain't Will Smith, nah, I ain't a Fresh Prince n***a I'm a young king, n***a I'm a Bun B Yup, I go hard, ask my broad Miss Stevie Wonder, she ain't lookin at y'all (She can't see) The rest goes without me having to say I say, go, go, go, go (DJ) [Hook: Paul Wall] Holla at me, what it do, what it is You ain't never seen a playa like this (Holla at me baby) I'm a pimp, I'll show her how I live Take her back then I put it in the wrist (Holla at me baby) I'm a monster, I do it real big You ain't never seen rocks like this (Holla at me baby) You can see me from afar I'm the sh** Scream at me what it do, what it is (What It Do) [Verse 2: Paul Wall] It's Paul Wall baby, Swishahouse club rocker Chunk a deuce, sip a deuce, pourin up the Goose vodka Lone Star beast straight up out the H Sure stoppin all the hate, sippin on the ski taste I got the INS on my tail, Immigration still hara** Cause they see me in a foreign ridin on imported gla** Gettin cash is my number one task Until I'm under the gra**, that's why I'm top of the cla** I'm a GRiT Boy lookin' for an a** like Ki Toy Leave a b**h back all nutty like Almond Joy My boy Toy I E got to sleep And we got the Sweets and who got the freaks? Beat it up like an a** whipping The album dropped and there's been a lot of a** kissing But I ain't trippin, I'm trill That's why I'm posted with Khaled cause he real one A hundred baby like a bill, Holla at me baby [Hook] [Verse 3: Fat Joe] Nah homie, you done got it f**ed up You ain't got as much money as us (Nope) We sent Campbell in cause he got goggles on And he's pushing something foreign as f** Now all I gotta do is push a little bu*ton quick fast And the chopper come out of the stash Yeah money ain't j**els motherf**er you lose I'll make you do the f**in Sean Combs dance (Follow me now) Who wanna come test the king Have your baby mama bless the team sh**, I ain't even know she could twerk it like that She a motherf**in s** machine, holla at me baby [Hook] [Verse 4: Rick Ross] Stuntin in a Magnum ridin with my hat low .45 Magnum, barrel full of air holes Dade County, represent, Dopeboy ever since Know that I'm a veteran, Million dollar president Rick Ross, big chips, AKs, flip clips Offset rims on a rear six-inch lips Started on the benches, rose through the trenches Now I'm the sh** b**h, go and check your senses Known for the Benzes, Chrome on the Bentleys Smokin on the mint leaves, Dade county, big cheese Flip soft, whip that, Rick Ross rip that Khaled go hard dawg, talk to 'em Paul Wall [Hook] [Verse 5: Pitbull] Aiyyo It's Mr. 305 AKA Mr. Snort Yay, Spit Rocks, Made in Dade I owe my future The last name Campbell, first name Luther The Gunshine State where they'll shoot ya The bottom, the crib, what it do, what it is Bust a clip, flip a brick, hey buddy where's the lick? That's all we talk about, well welcome to the south We in, get our bread then we out, no doubt 'Palas and 'prices These boys dirty, they'll f** your mother, sister, daughter and nieces Ahora loca mueva la cadera, abre la boca, aye viene la madera [Hook]