Tropicana Roses lyrics

by

Pete Rock


[Verse 1:]
f*ck b*tches, get money
Rainy days fly somewhere where it’s sunny
[?]
I’m feeling lovely
Might blow a O, sip on some bubbly
Bring the tropicana, make mimosas
Make sure the promoter get the bottles with the roses, perrie
Lots of perrie now we emotional
Anyway I’m gon levitate now I’m gon' roll this, roll this
Everywhere I go i’m loaded
You know it’s DZA
Dap a n*gga snap a picture
Front on your foes make them f*ck n*ggas bitter
Cause real n*ggas re-up and get more cheddar
Everywhere I be at I be faded
Pockets fulla paper
Fill my ora know I made it, made
Bring the tropicana, make mimosas
Make sure the promoter get the bottles with the roses

[Chorus:]
f*ck b*tches, get money[x3]
Smiling cause I’m hot but ain't a damn thang funny

[Verse 2:]
f*ck b*tches, get money
No occasion do Philipe just cause I’m hungry
She [?], she actin' funky
I’m tryna slide though, she got the donkey
Throw the bottle back like I’m stone cold
Posted on the block like I’m Marlo
Ten bands and on my cargos
Still gon' f*ck all my old hoes (Oh)
You talkin money (Oh) , them n*ggas broke (Oh)
You tryin to get this pack? (Oh) , I’m just making sure
You could call me Kush God but my checks say Pompey
Don’t mess up the feng shui
Blunt smoker on the Bombay (Go 'head)
Cold tooth for the hoes too
n*gga f*ck around and get laid
Give him a threesome, make his day now
Why don’t you roll another J
Everywhere I be at I be faded
Pockets fulla paper
Fill my ora know I made it, made
Bring the tropicana, make mimosas
Make sure the promoter get the bottles with the roses
[Chorus]
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