Stack On My Belt lyrics

[Intro: Takbar]
Self Made n*ggas man, you already know
I remember we use to watch the coke drop
Now a n*gga crib got a boat dock
MMG Navy n*gga, high tide sellers
D.C. Air Force, G5s are better
You already know n*gga
All gold sky-dwellers, fly n*gga sh*t
Belaire sippin', Ciroc p*ssin', foreign car dippin'
Young black millionaires n*gga, we build the empires

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I spend a stack on my belt, I swear you n*ggas are watching
I gave a stack to my b*tch, she the sh*t out the project
Spend a stack on my belt, that's for you b*tches who stalking
A half a mil' on the car, that's for you n*ggas who talking
Spend a stack on my belt, as if you think I was flogging
Spend a stack on my belt, and you could still see my boxers
Spend a stack on my belt, that's how I blew your deposits
Stack on the belt, double M, this sh*t popping

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Spend a stack on my belt, got b*tches asking my name
Spend a stack on the belt, she like f*ck how we came
Double R in the front, young n*ggas stay in your lane
Spend a stack on my belt, don't even ask 'bout the chain
Spend a stack on the belt, cause I knew she a wife
Spend a stack on the belt, cause my foolies on time
Spend a stack on the belt, I got your b*tch on my mind
Huh, the world is mine (M-M-M-Maybach Music)
[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I spend a stack on my belt, I swear you n*ggas are watching
I gave a stack to my b*tch, she the sh*t out the project
Spend a stack on my belt, that's for you b*tches who stalking
A half a mil' on the car, that's for you n*ggas who talking
Spend a stack on my belt, as if you think I was flogging
Spend a stack on my belt, and you could still see my boxers
Spend a stack on my belt, that's how I blew your deposits
Stack on the belt, double M, this sh*t popping

[Verse 2: Wale]
Spend a stack on my belt, better tell these rappers to chill
Hold up, that's Hermes, more H than a B-more trap, that's for real
And I got Mosquino, ye ain't know that R.I.P. flow? Here it go
Let's have a freak show with three shones
And we don't need no more help
That Givenchy go for three, just me, Rozay and the Gleesh
I make these b*tches suck on seeds
You make them suck on they teeth, let's get it
Ralph, clout, we out, they bounce
We here, at LIV, your b*tch, her mouth
Stack on the belt, just know that's nothing to me
My soldiers real in the field, you WWE
Of course we see 'em punks faking
But we leave them slumped, shaking
Don't believe y'all Kane stories, I should leave y'all undertaking
A stack on my belt, 250 my ride
Went from renting these muh'f*ckers to owning four with no miles
I pray my soul is intact, passion in the bulk of my rhyme
And when I hit that Heat game, I'm this close to LeBron
I'm gone
[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I spend a stack on my belt, I swear you n*ggas are watching
I gave a stack to my b*tch, she the sh*t out the project
Spend a stack on my belt, that's for you b*tches are stalking
A half a mil' on the car, that's for you n*ggas who talking
Spend a stack on my belt, as if you think I was flogging
Spend a stack on my belt, and you could still see my boxers
Spend a stack on my belt, that how I blew your deposits
Stack on the belt, double M, this sh*t popping

[Verse 3: Whole Slab]
I'm burning a bag, I'm swerving Maybach
I Versace'd my belt, I done Hermes my flag
Got a stack 'round my waist, keep my b*tch on a leash
She gon' eat this head up, on this di*k she gon' feast
Tom Ford with the pleats, my blazer is plaid
Red hoes in my stable, yeah my babies is bad
Just spent a stack on my belt, now she calling me father
Stingray Balenciagas, giving mollies to models
I manage these strippers, Giuseppe's with zippers
Playing with the whole slab, n*gga started with nickels
Rose gold on my wrist, rose gold on my shades
Spend a stack on my belt, a hun'dun on my face

[Verse 4: Birdman]
Spend a stack on my belt, so I could stunt when I shine
Get the MAC off the shelf, keep these pussies in line
Spend a stack on my belt, ten at the bar
Blow a mil' on a whip, serving n*ggas that raw
Spend a stack on the belt, Versace my kind
Put five on his life, put five in his mind
Spend a stack on the belt, b*tch we them real n*ggas
Plaques on the wall, born to kill n*gga, blatt!
[Outro: Sam Sneak & Birdman]
Yah, yah, yah (Yeah)
Yah, yah, stack on that belt, hoe
Stack on that belt, hoe
Spend a stack on the belt, hoe
Got a stack for the freak show
On her knees and she open like a dyke!
Double M, YMCMB boy, blatt!
(Maybach Music)