Rick Ross - Finest Hour Lyrics:
(The Boss)
Hey yo Diddy, it's Ross.
I'm still at the Fontainebleau my ni**a.
I overslept, called downstairs, they said you extended this shit.
Spanish bitches still here.
Send some more Ciroc over my ni**a.
I need some trees too.
Bugatti Boyz (uh)
The view in this motherf**ka is amazing
The one I flew in, this motherf**kas 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 shit.
My marijuana accounts your whole mortgage.
My watch, your house, ice flawless.
BVS look pink when I light head with the right bitch, 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**k her real hard just for the strange face.
(Diddy)
Take your time with it
Turn up your motherf**kin 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...
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 ni**as 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).
You see, a lot of ni**as be talkin that shit. But they don't be talkin that fly shit. Cuz they never experienced that fly shit. 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**kin pimpin.
Yeah, if I said it, I did it.
You know my name bitch, and if you forget, I'm Puff Daddy.
And that's my ni**a Rosé.
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**ka.
But bring your bitch with you, come on.
Damn! Damn, feels so good. Ni**as 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**kin bitches just money wrestling and shit. Not mud wrestling, money wrestling. You see, this is the way life is for some ni**as. They the chosen ones. Hate is for suckas ni**a, get some love in your life, you'll be blessed for it. (Come on).
Hey yo Diddy, it's Ross.
I'm still at the Fontainebleau my ni**a.
I overslept, called downstairs, they said you extended this shit.
Spanish bitches still here.
Send some more Ciroc over my ni**a.
I need some trees too.
Bugatti Boyz (uh)
The view in this motherf**ka is amazing
The one I flew in, this motherf**kas 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 shit.
My marijuana accounts your whole mortgage.
My watch, your house, ice flawless.
BVS look pink when I light head with the right bitch, 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**k her real hard just for the strange face.
(Diddy)
Take your time with it
Turn up your motherf**kin 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...
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 ni**as 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).
You see, a lot of ni**as be talkin that shit. But they don't be talkin that fly shit. Cuz they never experienced that fly shit. 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**kin pimpin.
Yeah, if I said it, I did it.
You know my name bitch, and if you forget, I'm Puff Daddy.
And that's my ni**a Rosé.
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**ka.
But bring your bitch with you, come on.
Damn! Damn, feels so good. Ni**as 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**kin bitches just money wrestling and shit. Not mud wrestling, money wrestling. You see, this is the way life is for some ni**as. They the chosen ones. Hate is for suckas ni**a, get some love in your life, you'll be blessed for it. (Come on).