Yacht Club

[Intro: Magazeen & (Rick Ross)] Yea, just something different ya know Ricky Ross the big boss (It's a secret society baby) Maga-to-the-zeen (All we ask is trust) Yeah, to the ladies dem (Nothing's changed) All of them Northside ladies only (Run with me or run from me, yeah) Dem real fall just-a like the sunshine (Pussies don't get pussy, yeah) Yacht Club, Rich Club (It's the Yacht Club baby) I brought kush too, haha (I got this) {Maybach Music!} {J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League} Motha! [Verse 1: Rick Ross] He's not bigger than Biggie, bitch I'm bigger than you It's just a boat to mi casa like a milli or two Gotta kick off your shoes, okay let's take a cruise Here's my captain now relax, let him do what he do Okay who rolling spinach? Cause I'm reeling the anchor Smoke up an acre a grass, wake up in Jamaica Couple nautical miles, I call my Cubanos to cop Puerto Rico for women, hit Barbados to shop Living larger than life call this the yacht club Before you join us bitch ya gotta get your stocks up She's walking back and forth, she's just itching to fuck And then I heard her wisper: "Girl you know he's rich as fuck" Travel the seven seas, there is no better breeze If he indulging jealousy his ass better breathe Man overboard cause he going overboard Damn it's over for him put that on my vocal chord [Hook x2: Magazeen] There's a party (party), going on All the girls they welcome to the Yacht Cluuuuuub Magazeen (Magazeen) let them in (let them in) [Verse 2: Rick Ross] My talk is priceless Turn me up a little bit, I feel bossy Kill all the middle men I'm the militant Gilligan Speaking Creole and gentlemen as I cruise the Caribbean Oh Lord I'm a star down in St. Barts The fat Tommy Lee I made out with like eight broads Put up in Costa Rica, I get the most of features She no *speakay no englay*, maybe Fat Joe could teach her Smoking barrels of reefer, only the yacht club Before you join us bitch ya gotta get your stocks up Travel the seven seas, there is no better breeze When we started selling 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 greedy 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 crusing in the gulf, I think your so deaf Janet was in control, because the ho left [Hook x2: Magazeen] [Verse 3: Rick Ross] My dick a big stretch and quick to tell a bitch fetch Tell you to kiss her ass, after you bought the bitch breasts Her head above average, my head above water By now you could see my palace, right off the coast of Florida I'm into fine fish with a slight lime twist Veggies on the side of course, kush appetizers Let your Mercedes chill, roll with a Navy Seal This the yacht club, wanna trust me your lady will Still spilling champagne, or is it merlot Fuck it it's fine wine, my bitch a Virgo I don't do the signs, unless there dollars on 'em I'm the boss of the boat, cashmere collar on 'em Thinking of last year, and all the money's made Now it's corporate invested, amongst the other things No one agrees with me, but that's just how it goes I'm the greedy genius no reference to the ugly clothes [Hook x2: Magazeen]