| Hop in the bucket and haul ass
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| Fuck 'em, hop in a bucket and haul ass
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| Fuck 'em, hop in a bucket and haul ass
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| Fuck 'em, hop in a bucket and haul ass
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| This to them boys on their way to Tennessee
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| Listenin' to M.J.G, breakin' dem birds and 8-balls
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| Be careful with them ki’s, don’t hesitate to squeeze
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| Watch out for them Feds 'coz they hate y’all
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| Bank accounts overseas, when them Feds come for me
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| All they gon' find is CD’s, no weight, dog
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| But wait, dog 'coz Pit is back, bigger, badder, stronger
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| It’s alright, you can hate, dog
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| But don’t be surprised if a chico do you like Nicholas Cage
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| And blow your motherfuckin' 'Face Off'
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| Who the fuck wanna face off
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| 'Coz I’m willin' and ready to cock, aim and bang
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| Show the world what it means to be born and raised
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| In the home of the K’s, that’s the County of Dade
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| Well, they used to shoot straight phase, now they shoot AK’s
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| So if they kick in your door, I suggest you do what they say
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| These are the facts of life minus them three bitches
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| They don’t rap no more, all they do is snitchin'
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| I went from no pot to piss in
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| To gettin' taught how to whip up a pot in the kitchen, listen
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| Cook, cook, whip, whip, chop, chop, oh
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| Hear the shots, don’t look, stop, drop, roll
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| Hit the block, tell them fiends stop, cock, go
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| Used to be my life but not no more
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| Fuck 'em, hop in a bucket and haul ass
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| Fuck 'em, hop in a bucket and haul ass
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| Fuck 'em, hop in a bucket and haul ass
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| Fuck 'em, hop in a bucket and haul ass
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| Take my banana clip to a banana click
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| Now that’s some Miami shit
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| Give me your big old shit with a ton of bricks
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| Now that’s some Miami shit
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| Chevys on 22's, 24's, 26
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| Now that’s some Miami shit
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| That’s right, that’s what, that’s right, that’s what
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| That’s right, I’m from Miami, bitch
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| I eat, sleep, shit, talk rap
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| See that 745 LI, yeah, I bought that
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| They never thought but I thought that
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| Give 'em a brick, bakin' soda and a peaka and it’s brought back
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| Pyrex to be exact, I bring it back
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| How you want it, from the stove or the microwave
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| How you want it, high yellow or light brown
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| Or feel that Method Man, I got 'em fiendin' with their pipes out
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| Let’s ride, I done reminisce on them days
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| When they used to jack tourists every day in Dade
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| That’s how JT Money got his name
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| Miami, all it equals is tons of cocaine
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| This is what we grew up and learned to do
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| These Cubans’ll teach you 'bout a bird or two
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| Keep actin' like these boys won’t murder you
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| Down here the sun ain’t the only thing burnin' you
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| This where the bitches go two ways
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| Niggas love gun play and a triangle equals a one way
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| If you know what I’m talkin' 'bout then you from Dade
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| If you don’t then
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| Welcome to where I’ve been raised (the bottom)
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| Welcome to where I’ve been raised (the crib)
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| Welcome to where I’ve been raised (Magic City)
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| Welcome to where I’ve been raised, that’s 305, county of Dade
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| Let’s ride
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| Fuck 'em, hop in a bucket and haul ass
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| Step on the gas, step on the gas
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| Fuck 'em, hop in a bucket and haul ass
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| Step on the gas, step on the gas
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| Take my banana clip to a banana click
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| Now that’s some Miami shit
|
| Give me your big old shit with a ton of bricks
|
| Now that’s some Miami shit
|
| Chevys on 22's, 24's, 26
|
| Now that’s some Miami shit
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| That’s right, that’s what, that’s right, that’s what
|
| That’s right, I’m from Miami, bitch |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Miami S*** , by - Pitbull. Song from the album El Mariel, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп