Lyrics Luxury Tax - Rick Ross feat. Lil Wayne, Jeezy & Trick Daddy

E-class, I think we got a problem

Yeahh, big money in this bitch if you didn't knew.
Big business, minus the business suit.
Even I look in the mirror like "is it you?"
And I say I must be the hottest if it isn't you.
Stay fresh from my top to my tennis shoes.
New coupe, no top, big tennis shoes.
Never slipped not even on the side of a swimming pool.
We don't get ridiculed, we get rid of fools.
They said I couldn't play football, I was too small.
They said I couldn't play basketball, I wasn't tall.
They said I couldn't play baseball at all.
And now everyday of my life, I ball.
And they say you ain't great until someone assassinate
And I feel like M.L.K.
Yeah, "I Have A Dream" to be your worst nightmare
Now meet the boss of the cartel, Ross

I'm a sinner, not Satan
Sitting on Lorenzos and I seem really patient
Picture the equation
People taking pictures and they really getting flagrant
Flagging down my spaceship, sergeant sniffing for a fragrance
Yayo, Yayo, he wanna sniff the yayo
Flying saucer on the hasa, in the casa just to lay low
Make more money man that's the motto for the mob
Need a blowjob? My motto, get a model for the job
Go hard, no job, hustler, no prob
Post up, nigga what? Finger-fuck your whole squad
Forty round extend-o, flip it for my kinfolk
Luxury tax on them packs if you didn't know
Bought a new crib, niggas feeling like I hid
3.2 but I did it for the kids
More guns than a pawn shop
Got my whole arm rocked
Keep the 760 double parked in the wrong spot.
Still hustling, BO$$

Yeah... You gotta pay for this
I remember when I used to pray for this
This, this is classic
Some shit you might not see again
And we taxin, you don't want it nigga leave it then
And we taxin, you don't want it nigga leave it then
And we ain't trying to see the Pen,
Like a needle in a hay stack we ain't trying to see the "pin".
This is a luxury tax

Yeah imagine this, no, imagine that.
Gave me my sack like, "Good luck getting back"
I'm like, "The fuck I'm gonna' hide it at?"
And if I'm not careful, be the same place they find it at
And I'm a winner if I make it across the finish line
Putting food on the table like it's dinner time.
And this is what you call stereotyping by far?
Can you tell me why your dog keep sniffing my car?
Got the audacity to call me a liar.
So what you got in your trunk?
Oh, just a spare tire.
You niggas talked blow, while I sold mine.
Like a bad cramp, it's locking up in no time.
More time in the kitchen than I spent in the studio
"Gangster's Paradise", and I ain't talking about Coolio.
Can't lie, still addicted to the odour
Got a ice cold Pepsi, still thinking Coca-Cola.

Yeah... You gotta pay for this
I remember when I used to pray for this.
This, this is classic
Some shit you might not see again.
And we taxin, you don't want it nigga leave it then,
And we taxin, you don't want it nigga leave it then.
And we ain't trying to see the Pen,
Like a needle in a hay stack we ain't trying to see the "pin".
This is a luxury tax.

I'm up early in the morning, and I'm dressed in black.
Hold on, every morning I get dressed in black.
While y'all half-ass, nigga my pants sagging
I'm getting money and my swag, black flagging.
Million dollar status, fully automatic.
Heavy on the Henny even harder on the women.
If it wasn't for rapping, I probably be pimpin and shit.
Pops, my Papi, is already in me.
I tried trapping, shit sent me to prison
Got mad and went to snapping, so homocide came to visit.
I smell gun powder, so you got one hour
To come up with every damn dollar; or you're done, dollar
It costs to ball, dogg
Especially when the players on your team, consider you as the ball hog.
You treat me like Shaq, and you Kobe
But I ain't say you owe me nigga
But act like you know me nigga

Yeah... You gotta pay for this
I remember when I used to pray for this.
This, this is classic
Some shit you might not see again.
And we taxin, you don't want it nigga leave it then,
And we taxin, you don't want it nigga leave it then.
And we ain't trying to see the Pen,
Like a needle in a hay stack we ain't trying to see the "pin".
This is a luxury tax.