Rick Ross - Holla At Me lyrics

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Rick Ross - Holla At Me lyrics

[Cool & Dre] This is...This is This is...AND HE GOES BY THE NAME OF [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*atch 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) [Chorus: 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 her 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 a far I'm the sh** Scream at me what it do, what it is (What It Do) [Paul Wall] It's Paul Wall baby, Swishahouse club rocker Chunk a deuce, sip a deuece, pourin up big goose vodka Lone star beast straight up out the H Sure stoppin all the hate, sippin on the ski taste I got the I-N-S on my tail, immigration still hara** Cause they see me in a foriegn ridin on a pointed 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 Ketoya Leave a b**h back all nutty like Almond Joy My boy Toy I E got to sleep And we got to see 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 [Chorus] [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 far and it's f**ed 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** Sean Comb dance (Follow me now) Who wanna come test the kid 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 [Chorus] [Rick Ross] Stuntin in a magnum ridin with my hat low Forty-five magnum, barrel full of air holes Dade County, represent, Dopeboy ever since Know that I'ma veteran, Million dollar president Rick Ross, big chips, AK's, flip clips Off set 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 benz's, Chrome on the bentleys Smokin on the mentleys, Dade county, big cheese Flip soft, whip that, Rick Ross rip that Khaled go hard dawg, talk to 'em Paul Wall [Chorus] [Pitbull] Aiyyo It's Mr. 3-0-5 A.K.A Mr. Snort yay, spit rocks, made in day I owe my future to Last name Campbell, first name Luther The gun shine stayed, well that suit ya Bought him 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 Caprices These boys dirty, they'll f** your mother, sister, daughter and nieces Ahora loca mueva la cadera, abre la boca aye viene la madera [Chorus]