Bugatti - Ace Hood, Future, Rick Ross

Bugatti - Ace Hood, Future, Rick Ross

Альбом
Trials & Tribulations
Год
2012
Язык
`English`
Длительность
269260

Below is the lyrics of the song Bugatti , artist - Ace Hood, Future, Rick Ross with translation

Lyrics " Bugatti "

Original text with translation

Bugatti

Ace Hood, Future, Rick Ross

You niggas paranoid, I party, getting money

I know I’m the shit, my janitor be getting money

I got a skyscraper, it’s a hell of a view

Got me closer to God, angel wings on my coupe

Pray for me;

damn, I grind every day for it

If you see me riding in it, it means I paid for it

Bugatti Boy, one point eight four

I got money, baby — I could order eight more

Fuck the Forbes list;

let’s tell the truth, I ate more

I got a billion, baby — time to get me eight more

Twelve bedrooms, time to get me eight more

Stack all the cases of Ciroc up on the eighth floor

Got a hundred mil'

(It's time to get another one)

How this Bugatti feel?

(I may need me another one)

Five bad bitches

(Just got me another one)

P. Diddy run the city

(Never be another one)

Five mil' cash

(And I need another one)

Rocking a different Rollie

(No, it’s not the other one)

Second to none at getting money

(Nigga, number one)

Real niggas run the city

(Never be another one)

These haters speculate

They always watching mine

She know what time it is

Just like my watch line

My clothes line

The cologne, bitch

I know you smell this money, sitting on this throne, bitch

I’m strong, bitch

I own shit

Gave myself a ten-digit bonus

I’m the money man

Money never financed

Come get this money, baby

With your fine ass

If your nigga broke, it’s time to get another one

If your bitch is tripping, time to get another one

I’m Puff Daddy, bitch — there’ll never be another one

Bugatti Boys forever one

I’m feeling the money

I’m loving the paper

Nigga hating the hood

Took his ho to Jamaica

If I let down the top

Let the breeze in my beard

V.I.P.

is the spot

They playing musical chairs

My Colombian the man, all the beam-me-up shorty

Got that money in the bag that can hold a fucking body in

One point five for this brand new black Bugatti

Jewels like I’m Slick Rick, Bally shoes, la di da di

Feeling myself;

bitch, you do the same

Fuck what I spend at the bar, you should see how I came

My bitch had a vest, with one foot in the trap

If I bust at your chest, I bet that’s a wrap

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