Stack On My Belt

[Intro: Takbar]
Self Made niggas man, you already know
I remember we use to watch the coke drop
Now a nigga crib got a boat dock
MMG Navy nigga, high tide sellers
D.C. Air Force, G5s are better
You already know nigga
All gold sky-dwellers, fly nigga shit
Belaire sippin', Ciroc pissin', foreign car dippin'
Young black millionaires nigga, we build the empires

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I spend a stack on my belt, I swear you niggas are watching
I gave a stack to my bitch, she the shit out the project
Spend a stack on my belt, that's for you bitches who stalking
A half a mil' on the car, that's for you niggas 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 shit popping

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Spend a stack on my belt, got bitches asking my name
Spend a stack on the belt, she like fuck how we came
Double R in the front, young niggas 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 bitch 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 niggas are watching
I gave a stack to my bitch, she the shit out the project
Spend a stack on my belt, that's for you bitches who stalking
A half a mil' on the car, that's for you niggas 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 shit 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 bitches 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 bitch, 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'fuckers 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 niggas are watching
I gave a stack to my bitch, she the shit out the project
Spend a stack on my belt, that's for you bitches are stalking
A half a mil' on the car, that's for you niggas 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 shit 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 bitch on a leash
She gon' eat this head up, on this dick 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, nigga 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 niggas 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, bitch we them real niggas
Plaques on the wall, born to kill nigga, 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)