Текст песни Yacht Club - Rick Ross feat. Magazeen
Rick
Ross
(Verse
One):
He
not
bigger
than
biggy,
Bitch
I’m
bigger
than
you.
It’s
just
a
boat
if
it
cost
you
like
a
milli
or
two.
Gotta
kick
off
your
shoes,
Okay
let’s
take
a
cruise,
Here’s
my
captain
now
relax,
Let
him
do
what
he
do.
Okay
who
rolling
spinach?
‘Cause
I’m
reeling
the
anchor.
Smoke
up
an
acre
of
grass,
Wake
up
in
Jamaica.
Couple
nautical
knots,
I
call
my
Cubanos
to
cop,
Puerto
Rico
for
women,
Hit
Barbados
to
shop.
Living
larger
than
life,
Call
this
the
Yacht
Club,
Before
you
join
us,
bitch
you
gotta
get
your
stocks
up.
She
walking
back
and
forth,
She
just
itching
to
fuck,
And
then
I
heard
her
whisper:
(“Girl,
you
know
he
rich
as
fuck.â€)
Travel
the
seven
seas,
There
is
no
better
breeze.
If
he
indulge
in
jealousy
his
ass
better
breathe.
Man
overboard
‘cause
he
going
overboard,
Damn
it’s
over
for
him-
Put
that
on
my
vocal
chord.
Magazeen:
(CHORUS)
There’s
a
party,
going
on.
All
the
gals
dem
welcome,
To
the
Yacht
Club.
Magazeen
(Magazeen)
Let
them
in.
{2x.}
Rick
Ross
(Verse
Two)
Kill
all
the
middle
men,
I’m
the
Millitant
Gilligan,
Speaking
Creole
with
gentlemen
as
I
cruise
the
Caribbean.
Oh
Lord,
I’m
a
star
down
in
St.
Barth’s,
The
fat
Tommy
Lee,
I
made
out
with
like
eight
broads.
But
up
in
Costa
Rica,
I
get
the
most
of
features.
She
no
speakey
no
Ingles,
Maybe
Fat
Joe
could
teach
her.
Smoking
barrels
of
reefer,
Only
the
Yacht
Club.
Before
you
join
us,
bitch
you
gotta
get
your
stocks
up.
Travel
the
seven
seas,
There
is
no
better
breeze,
When
we
started
selling
keys
this
just
how
we
thought
it
would
be.
No
one
agrees
with
me,
But
that’s
just
how
it
goes.
I’m
the
greedy
genius,
no
reference
to
the
ugly
clothes.
I
still
hustle
for
dough
but
no
more
me
scuffing
my
soles.
Make
the
presentation
and
trust
me
the
customer’s
sold.
I’m
cruising
in
the
Gulf,
I
think
you’re
So
Def.
Janet
was
in
control,
Because
that
hoe
left.
Magazeen:
(CHORUS)
There’s
a
party,
going
on.
All
the
gals
dem
welcome,
To
the
Yacht
Club.
Magazeen
(Magazeen)
Let
them
in.
(Let
Them
In.)
{2x.}
Rick
Ross
(Verse
Three)
My
dick
a
big
stretch
and
quick
to
tell
a
bitch
fetch.
Tell
you
to
kiss
her
ass
after
you
bought
that
bitch
breast.
Her
head
above
average,
My
head
above
water,
By
now
you
can
see
my
palace
right
off
the
coast
of
Florida.
I’m
into
fine
fish,
with
a
slight
lime
twist,
Veggies
on
the
side
of
course,
Kush
appetizers.
Let
your
Mercedes
chill,
Roll
with
a
Navy
SEAL.
This
the
Yacht
Club,
Wodie
trust
me?
Your
lady
will.
Still
spilling
champagne,
Or
is
it
Merlot?
Fuck
it,
it’s
fine
wine.
My
bitch
a
virgo.
I
don’t
do
the
signs,
Unless
it’s
dollar’s
on
them.
I’m
the
boss
of
the
boat,
Cashmere
collar
on
them.
Thinking
of
last
year,
and
all
the
money’s
made,
Now
it’s
corporate
investing,
Amongst
the
other
things.
No
one
agrees
with
me,
But
that’s
just
how
it
goes,
I’m
the
greedy
genius,
no
reference
to
the
ugly
clothes.
Magazeen:
(CHORUS)
There’s
a
party,
going
on.
All
the
gals
dem
welcome,
To
the
Yacht
Club.
Magazeen
(Magazeen)
Let
them
in.
(Let
them
in.)
{4x.}
Magazeen:
-You
gotta
let
the
ladies
know
what
is
the
Yacht
Club.
(Jamaican
Patois
in
background)
BUMBACLOT!
1 Face
2 Bossy Lady (Ne-Yo)
3 All I Really Want
4 Gunplay
5 Murder Mami (Foxy Brown)
6 All I Really
7 Lay Back (Robin Thicke)
8 Maybach Music 2
9 Murder Mami
10 Lay Back
11 Mafia Music
12 Magnificent
13 Yacht Club
14 Usual Suspects
15 Rich Off Cocaine
16 Face
17 Valley Of Death
18 In Cold Blood
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