Feel Dat Heat - Rick Ross

Lyrics by：Rick Ross

Composed by：Rick Ross

N-n-name like music

The minute I wake up I gotta get high

The homies we found us a way to get by

Let's call us some b***hes and have a good time

A lot of bottles of Vodka as we forget time

Let's clean up the Chevy so we can ride by

Quick piece of p***y call it a drive by

I'mma slide by sipping on that high life

And my slippers jack triple where my five light

As a all-star I made so many highlights

Touchdown field goal this my night

She the wild type ready for the wild night

Are you the bi type hanging at the bar type

I hope you are 'cause that mean a player all right

Smokin like a Taylor so the paper is all white

Tryna to land a plane baby are you really game

Back to the future me and Wiz got this thing saying

I stay high while ya'll stay low

Tryna tell me 'bout the smell I know

My eyes stay red from all that smoke

The *** with me everywhere I go

And ya'll can't roll

Woah woah woah woah woah woah woah

Ya'll can't roll

Woah woah woah woah woah woah woah

Ya'll can't roll

I got yo girl digging all in my ash tray

Dicking her down for the few past days

She asked the name of my sneakers are they designer

Shawty green as the ** even the grinder

F**king like it's a porn in my recliner

Looking straight in the eyes they show vagina

She's a liar but d**n she does it well

We on fire imagine what it'll sell

All my homies are people that I admire

Small clique of real n***as smoking that fire

Holding my ** until the day that I expire

We and Wiz in the Benz getting higher

I stay high while ya'll stay low

Tryna tell me 'bout the smell I know

My eyes stay red from all that smoke

The *** with me everywhere I go

And ya'll can't roll

Woah woah woah woah woah woah woah

Ya'll can't roll

Woah woah woah woah woah woah woah

Ya'll can't roll

I'm in the right pair of Nike Airs

From gravel to marble I travel light years

I'm like chyea I'mma chill right chea

Like the Mack 11 on me n***a no fear

Skateboard aboard to PanAmerica

I make more abroad than in America

Waiting for the day Bob rose from the dead

In HD as I take an ounce to the head

I stay high while ya'll stay low

Tryna tell me 'bout the smell I know

My eyes stay red from all that smoke

The *** with me everywhere I go

And ya'll can't roll

Woah woah woah woah woah woah woah

Ya'll can't roll

Woah woah woah woah woah woah woah

Ya'll can't roll

N-n-name like music