Rick Ross Yacht Club Lyrics:
He not bigga den biggy bitch I'm bigger than you
just a boat a mi casa like you a milli or 2 gotta
kick off your shoes Okay lets take a cruise heres
my captain now relax, let him do waht he do, okay
Who rollin spinach cuz I'm reallin the anchor
smoke up up an acre a grass wake up in jamaica,
couple nautical nas, I call my cubanos ta cop,
puerto rico for women, hit barbedos ta shop, livin
larger than life Call this the yacht club, before
ya join us bitch ya gotta get your stocks up. she's
walkin back and forth, she's just itchen ta fuck,
then I heard her wisper, travel the seven seas,
there is no better breaze If he indulgen jelousy
his ass better breathe man overboard cuz hes goin
overboard, damn it's over for him put that on my
vocal cord. JAMAICANS........ Kill all the middle
men I'm the millatin gilligans Speakin creo and
gentle men as I cruise the caribean, o lord I'm a
star down in saint barths the fat tommy lee I made
out with like 8 broads but up in costa rica, I get
the most of features, she no speakay No englay,
maybe fat joe could teach her, smokin barrels of
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reefer, only the yacht club, Before ya join us
bitch ya gotta get your stocks up, travel the
seven seas, there is no better breeze when we
started Sellin keys that's just how we thought it
would be, no one agrees with me, But that's just
how it goes I'm the greeta genious no reference to
the ugly clothes, I still hustle for dope, but no
more me scuffin my Soles, make the presentation
and trust me the customer sold, I'm crusin in the
gulf, I think your so deaf, janet was in control,
because the hoe left, JAMAICANS......... my dick a
big stretch and quick ta tell a bitch fetch, Tell
you ta kiss her ass, after you bought the bitch
breast, her head above average, my head above
water, But now you could see my balace, right off
the coast of florida, I'm in ta fine fish with a
slight lime twist, Veggies on the side of course,
kush appetizez, let your mercedes chill, roll wit
a navy seal, this the yacht club, Wanna trust me
your lady will, still spillen champaign, or is it
merlow, fuck it it's fine wine, my bitch a vergo, I
don't do the signs unless a dollars on em, I'm da
boss a da boat, cashmeire collar on em, Thinkin a
last year and all the moneys made, now it's
corporate investin amongst the other things, No
one agrees with me, but that's just how it goes,
I'm the greeta genious no refernce to the ugly clothes
Lyrics: Yacht Club, Rick Ross [end]