Rick Ross - Bag Of Money (Extended Remix) lyrics

[Intro: Rick Ross] + (T-Pain) She self made too, therefore she winning New Money, MMG, Self Made 2 Taking over the world C'mon baby girl let's spend this money [Hook x2: Rick Ross & T-Pain] My chick bad looking like a bag of hunnids My chick bad looking like a bag of hunnids I blow it fast so you know I got her stuntin I blow it fast so you know I got her stuntin [Interlude: Rick Ross & T-Pain] + (Wale) She got me caught up in the moment (You got some nice pineapples, for real) She got me caught up in the moment (Wale though, double M, remix) I only kiss her when she on it White Ferrari and she got her doin' donuts, hol' up [Verse 1: Wale] She like Wa-le my stroke game be on point Yeah, shawty losing her mind her composure most of her voice And she say she hate the word moist, but she can't escape from that vibe You can play fight with that cat, me, I k** that p**y 9 times I slow it down, let me slow it down Ever since I hit that, look at it, that sh** I got you poking now Numbers we ain't throwing down, not me, no way, no how Cause you know them screenshot broads always gonna run they mouth Okay, I'm far too drunk I'm not driving (what's up?), you know open bars are on fire A little green and white in my pocket, so this song is now "Bag of Mara" Caught up in the wrong timing, yeah, Jacob made my medallion Just post up, but don't coach much, but I love the stadium talent [Verse 2: Omarion] Bright lights picture, all right colors I'll let you count my money, don't think that you own me You're my bag of my money, you're my bag of honey I beez in your trap, while you're yelling f** me I be on some other sh** Maybach O up in this b**h Tell you about them other n***as They be lying about they figures I'm bout it, bout it I pull the trigger Y'all be so lame We k**in' the game, I dance in the bank We so mafioso, you ain't never know though Never gonna know so, no never no, no, no, no, no, no [Hook] [Verse 3: Yo Gotti] My b**h amazing; show stopper Work at the titty club; p**y popper Top drop white on white 645 I burnt her up from 5 o'clock until 6:45 Mr. 60 minutes, Mrs. Chanel, and Fendi I hit her in the Porsche and burnt her up a new Infiniti Presidential Rollie, JFK, she Mrs. Kennedy Rose gold his or hers, diamonds and furs Want a little suede, one on one bag Look like a duffel bag of money, she beyond that And I'm beyond swag, young thug n***a Drug dealer; MMG affiliated blood n***a That 50k on that vaca 20 bands on that birkin bag, 12 hunnid on that dinner date We eat lobsters from Florida, French-ful flowers Put you on the next level sh**, world is ours [Verse 4: Rockie Fresh] Got my Sox cap, top back, shorty you could come outside We can ride, drive an '88, you know how we drive You just want somebody that's consistent and that will provide I'm just trying to live in your division when your legs divide I could take you high, you say your man don't appreciate you He should learn to be more grateful for somebody that's been faithful Instead he trying to play you, you know trying to Stevie J you I just wanna make you rain like we in the month of April And we hella young, let's have some fun and never be on dummy Got a good sense of humor, but you can't be acting funny You will get ate for dinner, but I'm hungry for some money Every time I go and get it, then I'll let you count it for me [Hook] [Verse 5: Trina] I-I-I'm looking like a money money money badge That's why these n***as want me bad Cause I'm so f**ing special, diamonds and precious metals Giuseppe stilettos, I'm the queen of the ghetto Trina, I stay winning, I keep these n***as spinning I'm looking for a boss, let me be your lieutenant Let me be your ma**euse, fine head in the coupe Ménage in the suite, boy, you know I'm the truth I stay stunning, looking like a bad of hundreds You know your momma running, I keep that money coming He bring that money home, he let me count it for him Now I'm married to the mob and I'm riding for him [Verse 6: Lil Wayne] Uh, my-my b**h mad cause I'd rather get that money I give her this dick she say that dick better than money I say, "Can I get some head?" She say, "Let me get my scrunchie" Serve her like a country, got that dope dick she a junkie She say "Tunechi, this your p**y", I say "Tell me anything" Then I s** her nipple ring, eat that p**y; Listerine She coming I make sure my b**h bad; she'll take yours And she do tricks on that dick like a skateboard [Verse 7: Tyga] Uh, Maybach Riders, gold chain buyers Gold wings saline your b**h say I'm the fliest I make five thou gold ya'll, spent that in about an hour And my b**h like Bob May, ball hard 'til I get the callous Shout out I ain't got no stylist, shout out to you n***as keep trying Bag of money, bag of money, I eat the money like I eat the p**y King gold chains, they follow me, presidential car presidential suite She bad and all, model type, but I like me a big booty One time for them 9 to 5's, one time for them stripper dimes One time for them college girls, one time for those who can't decide I love her more I take them all, she doing bad I break her off I'm T-Raw, don't need ya'll, everything I do is so well done [Hook] [Verse 8: French Montana] I push the drop and let her ride shotty My b**h bad looking like a bag of mollies Hit the crib make a p**no, my diamonds flash like photos 500 on my auto and I bought it out; f** car note Shorty know exactly who the realest is Murder that (ahh) leave no witnesses Started from the streets, turned to businesses Dirty bag of money, stack it to where that ceiling is Got, shorty, grab it, take it, to that, money Shorty, dancing, for them, hundreds, got me, paying, on exonics b**h I'm balling all green, trying to buy a ball team No I suit her, roosting, know we going all in [Verse 9: Black Cobain] Rolling up some k**er, riding through my city Bumping Bag of Money got a bag of money with me She conceited, she know that, she was down with a n***a before rap If I had the strap, she would hold that, she don't even smoke, but she'll roll that For me she drinking Henny she don't like it though She f** with real n***as cause that's all she know Make her pop that p**y hole, make her bring that money back You n***as couldn't f** my b**h if you gave her a hundred stacks She all about a purse, not a bag, though, she work When I'm in the p**y I surf, when she bless a n***a, like church I'm on this bag of money remix I'll be all up in her Vickie's but she cannot keep a secret [Hook] [Interlude & Hook]