Luxury Tax Rick Ross (Ft. Jeezy, Lil Wayne & Trick Daddy)

[Intro: Lil Wayne]
E-Class, I think we got a problem

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
Yeah, 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?"
Then 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 slippin', 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 every day of my life, I ball
And they say you ain't great until someone assassinate
And I feel like MLK
Yeah, "I Have a Dream" to be your worst nightmare
Now meet The Boss of The Cartel, Ross

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
I'm a sinner, not Satan
Sittin' on Lorenzos and I seem really patient
Picture the equation
People takin' pictures and they really gettin' flagrant
Flaggin' down my spaceship, sergeant sniffin' for a fragrance
Yayo! Yayo! He wanna sniff the yayo
Flyin' saucer on the hasa, in the casa just to lay low
Make more money man, that's the motto for the mob
Need a blow-job, 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 feelin' like I hid
3.2, but I did it for the kids
More guns than a pawnshop
Got my whole arm rocked
Keep the 760 double-parked in the wrong spot
Still hustlin', boss