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Ft. Rick Ross & Trey Songz I got whatever I signed You wanna hop in, bitch comin' on Just have to have your mouth wide If you know that you plan on coming on On for what you.. And if you think we're gonna stop That's just absurd My little finger's in the sky Screamin' fuck a hater til the day a nigga die Yea, I got em yellin' Oh God, Lord Presence fresh, your neck rise, sharp Tom Ford Fuck G4s, I charter private Concords And she through the sky like missiles when they dodge ball Toast them bottles with the booze Smell and stink like old money buried in the king's tomb When you think we smell funny, certain niggas wanna watch em When it comes to money I'm a nose fragrance, watch the flower blossom When it comes to bread, y'all niggas know it's me I articulate beautiful like a poetry Hoes bring me that paper just like they all in 3's Chip em a revenue, God bless my rosaries Listen , that's why your witness and your highness We're celebratin' success and sippin' on the finest Most you motherfuckers need to learn to stand behind us When we come and dismantle you niggas quick and leave you spineless SongtexteBut that's for you to dodge us I got whatever I signed You wanna hop in, bitch comin' on Just have to have your mouth wide If you know that you plan on coming on On for what you.. And if you think we're gonna stop That's just absurd My little finger's in the sky Screamin' fuck a hater til the day a nigga die She see me stackin' cheese in my saggy sheets Silver and Sela, smokin' lavender leaf Yellow Jesus piece, I still feed the streets I'm getting score, that Ferrari seats Riders at the top, get arrogant on em Set a bottle off, you can ride if you wanna My money mandatory, slippy what deposits look Money green, Maserati with a body kit Dead presidents, got my name on the blim Fast in the residence based on a tip Playin innocent, the state attorney want a grip I've got enough, get with puff, I could make a flip Fuck the charge down for me to top the Forbes list I'm a fat boy, I but em on that poor shit You see that money? I'm touchin' mine It's Rosay, Trey Songz, Busta Rhymes I got whatever I signed You wanna hop in, bitch comin' on Just have to have your mouth wide If you know that you plan on coming on On for what you.. And if you think we're gonna stop That's just absurd My little finger's in the sky Screamin' fuck a hater til the day a nigga die Hand on my heart while giving thanks and continued bustin' these bottles open Passin' the time, securin' lanes, gurkin' forgot smokin' Controllin' every room when I enter there start toastin' Undecided on what to drive, think the garage is open As we do the impossible It seems successfully manifestin' a thought and livin' out the dream Leave an unforgettable mark of mud I be in it like adding a chapter to the Bible with my blood, listen Every day is like a weekend Like we never give a fuck, celebratin' for no reason A convoy full of trucks, ain't no question, we all eatin' Then it's silence when I talk like I'm hearin' the Lord speakin' now As they complain about my ways Cuz I'll be grindin', never sleepin' just be ballin' on for days Be fuckin' every model, every weed in out the strays And then I'm bouncin' that Bugatti slowly totin' on the haze Then we pass this shit to Trey I got whatever I signed You wanna hop in, bitch comin' on Just have to have your mouth wide If you know that you plan on coming on On for what you.. And if you think we're gonna stop That's just absurd My little finger's in the sky Screamin' fuck a hater til the day a nigga die Aus Songtexte Mania