Migos - Black Bottles (ft. Rick Ross)

Black Bottles Lyrics

[Hook: Rick Ross]
Black bottles and the gold chains
Want the half or the whole thing?
You goin' hard or you're goin' home?
You goin' gold or you ridin' chrome?

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Pussy niggas wanna see you dead
Cause them pussy niggas never see the bread
Black bottles and the gold chains
Ho swallowin' my whole name (Rozay)
I got some niggas that'll slide for me
In other words, niggas there to die for me
Left hand for the styrofoam
My right hand keep this Calico
I gave my shone a student loan
That bitch's mouth made the honor roll
It's a cold world, meanin' no love
Down to do work, nigga, no gloves
Just got me 2 birds from ol' boy
I always look out for ol' boy
Belaire, my refrigerator
I ate your bitch out on the dinner table

[Hook: Rick Ross]

[Verse 2: Quavo]
Migos! Walkin' out the bando with a 4-5
My mama told me get money and stay alive
I can't make the deal, I think he wearing a wire
Pitching hard ball and they hit it, call 'em Mark McGwire
I'm meeting up with Pele Migo, that's my ese
He ain't ever have a private jet, but work on runways
My wrist whip the magic, Quavo Hardaway
3,000 birds in the air, I call it Andre
I was nothin', turned into somethin', these bitches want me
I came from the bando, lot of bags, but no groceries
Pull up in the foreign, that's the trunk where the motor be
Bottles in that VIP, bring out the camera, Spike Lee

[Hook: Rick Ross]

[Verse 3: Takeoff]
32 bricks of gold, Karl Malone
Lookin' at my Breitling, it got VS-1 stones
Lately lot of you niggas been rockin' rhinestones
Talkin' 'bout you on the block, Macaulay Culkin, home alone
Takin' a trip to go pick up that pack and we pull up in Bentleys
Walkin' around with that sack, no 6, nigga walking with a 50
It's Migo gang, QC the label, fuck niggas better get with it
After my show, I'm on top of your ho, nigga autographin' bitches titties
Travelin' around the globe, I was told not to sell my soul
For the price of fame and never fold
Had to jump behind the internet
A nigga takin' chains, Debo
24k on my toes
My Maison Margiela's, they rose gold
Trappin' and dabbin', I trap in the rain, sleet, or snow

[Hook: Rick Ross]

[Verse 4: Offset]
Drug deala, gotta keep the 9 milla
You scary just like "Thriller", thinkin' about buyin' a buildin'
Finessin' the plug for the work
I cross him over, no dribble
Sippin' Rose after the day I had a court date
Tried to fuck lil mama, I don't really like no foreplay
Talkin' all that shit, I'll put a price all on your toupee
I hit him in the mouth, he thought he had a damn toothache
Both of you niggas are too fake
They watchin' a nigga like Blu-Ray
You talkin' 'bout that blow but you can't be from in the kitchen
Whippin' up Alicia Keys
You say that you got the big money
But really your money is sesame seeds
I got this bitch named Valerie, she bring me bricks from Sicily
My neck is flooded and my double cup is mudded
The streets made me a villain, out that bowl, I made a million

[Hook: Rick Ross]

[Outro: Rick Ross]
Black bottles and the gold chains
Wearin' gold from the cocaine
Boil kilo in the crockpot
'Nother drug dealer on the car lot

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