Rick Ross - Lay Up (remix) lyrics

[Verse 1: Rick Ross] She getting to know me She liking me next She kissing me slow I'm biting her neck Just catching the flow I'm writing the next She ready to blow I'm referring to s**, Yes [Interlude: Trey Songz] Lay up, lay up Lay up, lay up [Verse 2: Rick Ross] Siting back with these paper falling in my lap Feeling isolated nothing but them hundred stacks When your money up tell me who you supposed to trust Every night a different women f**ing money up My bank account in shape, I can run with Puff I came to put you down shorty so what the f** is up Since I met her she can't keep that p**y off me On a pill I'mma k** that p**y softly Back to back tryna show you how gangster move Keys to the pent, talking infinity pools V12's ain't a thing tryna change her name Papers stuffed in her purse can't hear her phone ring [Chorus: Trey Songz] She know it's gametime when I do it like that When I pa** it to her baby throw it right back She can get the lay up, all night She be tryna lay up, all right And when I shoot I don't miss (don't miss), I don't miss (don't miss) I don't miss when I do it now She could get the lay up, all night She be tryna lay up, all right [Verse 3: Jay-Z] Hold up The bigger the boat, the better the b**h Not only boats baby girl I ships A million copies since '96 Plus that nintey five south love I double dip, damn Dope man I need a dope b**h So I can divey up, all of this dope sh** I know Versace, know Givenchy, know Guiseppe Emilio Pucci introduce you if you let me I know Stella, Margiela, Marc Jacobs Micheal Kors f** 'em all, custom made stuff I'm a made n***a, you a maid n***a Get a way, getaway, get away n***a Jumpin' off boats, hoppin' off another cliff Every six months I think I need a new bucket list To whom it applies Who f**in' with me I'm the greatest alive Love, I know you agree [Chorus] [Verse 4: Rick Ross] Getting money come natural stunt in my past time Making love f**ing like it's my last time You know we fight and f**, you know we f** and fight Ain't nothing perfect baby this is f**ing life Street battle tested, dreams manifested When we was selling things n***a we was breaking records Dom Prignon running down my tatted arm Other b**hes hating on me and my baby born Had her running with the low and shorty took the charge Already out on bond, sh** I would been scared She did it like a chief while I was going hard Now the world is yours, it's your time to ball [Chorus] [Verse 5: Trey Songz] From the night to the morn', yeah she tryna lay Got a freaky, freaky game and she tryna play Couple more shots baby can you make it stay, stay up Lay up, lay up Might just slap the backboard, give you what you ask for Lay up