Fontaine Bleu lyrics

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Hey yo Diddy, it's Ross
I'm still at the Fontainebleau my n*gga
I overslept, called downstairs, they said you extended this sh*t
Spanish b*tches still here
Send some more Ciroc over my n*gga
I need some trees too
Bugatti Boyz (uh)

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
The view in this motherf*cka is amazing
The one I flew in, this motherf*cka's an Asian
Got a few more just being patient
Puff double up we Cam'ron and Mase'em
We used to be ashy on porches
Now we lease Aston's and on Porsches
Italian glass the whole fortress
Cracks in the marble, slabs that we cop sh*t
My marijuana accounts your whole mortgage
My watch, your house, ice flawless
BVS look pink when I light head with the right b*tch, white mink be the icy
Louis Vuitton button up my companion
An LG show the bag for the cannon (come on)
22-32 or straight 8
f*ck her real hard just for the strange face
[Hook: Masspike Miles]
Live the good life
This is what it looks like (living crazy)
I tell em' f*ck you baby (yeah)
The big boys do it like this
This is money so we gotta get paid
Baby do it your way I get it my way
But the difference is I make it look easy

[Interlude: Diddy]
Take your time with it
Turn up your motherf*ckin radio
And hear what we hear
See what we see (Bugatti Boys!)
Feel what we feel
Hey yo turn me up
I speak softly when I talk to these hoes
Check it out...

[Verse 2: Diddy]
I'm interested in women that's independent
But the shoppin sprees can be extended
New Benz's, your license is suspended
Your man pretending my bank account tremendous
We going places no other n*ggas ever though about
Bora Bora, I'll show you what the yacht about
It's simple math, all I wanna do is spoil her
Look at her hand, the great rock of Gibraltar
Buyin land the half a size of Florida
Baby I'm a baller, New York's my ball court
Straight out of Harlem, home of the cut steez
Women lust me, 100 G's for the cufflinks
A queen is always a man's best accessory (that's right)
Look at mine, she half black and Cherokee
I hit the lotto with all my mulattos
You recognize the model with the top off the Gelato
(Yeah, come on)
[Outro: Diddy]
You see, a lot of n*ggas be talkin that sh*t
But they don't be talkin that fly sh*t
Cuz they never experienced that fly sh*t
You see, we the Bugatti Boyz baby, we talk because we live it
Take a deep breathe and smell that effervescence
Yeah that's real motherf*ckin pimpin
Yeah, if I said it, I did it
You know my name b*tch, and if you forget, I'm Puff Daddy
And that's my n*gga Rozay
As you close your eyes you can fly
You can see the visions that I see from the view up high
I've been here before you
Imma be here after you
And imma be here when you decide to come back mothaf*cka
But bring your b*tch with you, come on
Damn!
Damn, feels so good
n*ggas dont even make music like this no more
You feel me Rosé?
It's the Bugatti Boyz!
That soul music!
That fried chicken and champagne, with some diamonds
Yeah, five million in cash on the bed for no reason
(Phone rings)
With three mothaf*ckin b*tches just money wrestling and sh*t
Not mud wrestling, money wrestling
You see, this is the way life is for some n*ggas
They the chosen ones
Hate is for suckas n*gga, get some love in your life, you'll be blessed for it (Come on)