Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Money Dance, artist - Rick Ross. Album song Black Market, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 03.12.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: DEF JAM, Universal Music
Song language: English
Money Dance |
Ma, hey give me a black bottle |
I can’t dance good but I’mma dance tonight, you hear me? |
Baby just don’t step on my feet, nigga toes hurting |
Uh, uh |
Funny to see a ghetto nigga so classy |
Enchanted by women who speak nasty |
Tip toeing to court, went there for the past week |
Leaning on my lawyer pinky looking glassy |
Charges dropped, these plaintiffs just wanna tax me |
Secret service wanna see me driving taxis |
Hug my attorney and then we do the money dance |
Whitey Bulge' your horse, soldier leaving Vietnam |
Pledge allegiance to the flag |
Where we keep it 100 and get your money back |
Pull a plug, brain dead, dope game nigga |
Knew the rolls was fake and so we brought the real with us |
Repertoire hustle such a tenacity |
High roller, bet us another masterpiece |
More Rakim then maybe Master P |
Crazy nigga paid in full I’m tryna buy the beach |
Caution, I’ll approach you with a business mind |
Slight two step as I check the time |
Rub my hands when my palms itch |
50 in the bank diamonds looking flawless |
This the sway of a rich nigga |
Praying for the day my nigga seeing 6 figures |
Black bottles popping when I’m on the turf |
Two private Jets what this nigga’s worth |
No girl under ten |
No whip under a hundred grand |
Oh yeah, oh yeah |
Man I make this money dance |
I criss cross, she sun tans |
Propellers out the window over our lands |
Where I land |
Girl we make that money dance |
Top Forbes, poor formal education |
Top floors, cop rooms on reservations |
Gold in my grave, half a ticket in my coupe |
Ex cheerleader flipping now this nigga truth |
Money piles have got me out on Sunny Ave |
Black with me everywhere I go he’ll gun you down |
Full clips, magazines yeah the Forbes list |
If this all for nickle recount it, it’s bullsht |
But when they right we do the money dance |
Fly nigga my nigga Randall Cunningham |
When she hear the slang then she know the name |
Italian coupes for the suits I spend it on the chain |
Pool so long we should take a swim |
I like that ass fat, I can spread it thin |
I wanna see your friends come do the money dance |
Black bottle boys, we got these bitches holding hands |
Caution, I’ll approach you with a business mind |
Slight two step as I check the time |
Rub my hands when my palms itch |
50 in the bank diamonds looking flawless |
This the sway of a rich nigga |
Praying for the day my nigga seeing 6 figures |
Black bottles popping when I’m on the turf |
Two private Jets what this nigga’s worth |
No girl under ten |
No whip under a hundred grand |
Man I make this money dance |
I criss cross, she sun tans |
Propellers out the window over our lands |
Where I land |
Girl we make that money dance |
Dance, dance, dance, dance |
Dance, dance, dance |
Come on y’all yeah you know we got it |
Dance, dance, dance, dance |
Dance, dance, dance, dance |
Uh, I feel wonderful, how about yourself? |
You rolling with the real niggas you know we got it |
As the world turn and the weed twist |
Flew a hundred niggas to Veil on a ski trip |
Put away the dope we can see the slopes |
We built this shit together why it mean the most |
Head on collision somehow I walk away |
Give you music for free recouping with the yay |
You’re rocking with the bowtie Don |
In god we trust, I bust and post bond |
In the hood we the Run-DMCs |
Best «es and wrote we don’t need |
Death Row on foul like Cool C |
Big flossy the bitches like «who's he?» |
The corvette was a beast I had to lease |
Six months then we’re free to holler, «peace» |
Dead wrong my nigga, Miami river cops |
Leave you floating, hope you getting them ten a pop |
Caution, I’ll approach you with a business mind |
Slight two step as I check the time |
Rub my hands when my palms itch |
50 in the bank diamonds looking flawless |
This the sway of a rich nigga |
Praying for the day my nigga seeing 6 figures |
Black bottles popping when I’m on the turf |
Two private Jets what this nigga’s worth |
Atlanta, Miami, Rosé |
We like 2Pac infante |
They sent my nigga on house arrest |
I’m coming through niggas they ain’t stopping this |
I bring the beach to the front door |
All bitches out the pool we need to park the boat |
Turn South Georgia to Florida |
And turn the rest over to the lawyers |
Cause we ain’t tryna hurt nobody |
Just tryna bring life to the party |
If I ain’t change you mind think whatever |
One thing you can’t change is I changed the weather |
And this my Rockafella flow |
And you just on hella dope, I’m hella dope |
This for real niggas with Maybachs |
All debts forgiven this is the payback |
Yea, see what I did right there? |
I just made that money dance |
Hah, oh shit, Ross |
(Dance, dance, dance, dance) |
And we live from Atlanta, Georgia nigga |
(Dance, dance, dance, dance) |
Yeah, yeah, see you on the other side |
(Dance, dance, dance, dance) |
(Dance, dance, dance, dance) |
(Dance, dance, dance, dance) |
(Dance, dance, dance, dance) |
(Dance, dance, dance, dance) |
(Dance, dance, dance, dance) |