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Top Songs By Rick Ross
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Rick Ross
Vocals
Drake
Vocals
Wale
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
William Roberts
Songwriter
Carl McCormick
Songwriter
Olubowale Akintimehin
Songwriter
Aubrey Drake Graham
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Cardiak
Producer
John Rivers
Recording Engineer
Fabian Marasciullo
Mixing Engineer
Alexander Dilliplane
Assistant Recording Engineer
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Diced pineapple
Tonight you shall reach a height that the sky won't catch you
The highest form of my admiration, I ain't no connoisseur, but I'm
Kinda sure you will admire my taste
And before the sun graze you
I'm tryna see how deep you are, and belive me shawty
I ain't talkin' 'bout no intimate conversation
I wanna see if I can make you reach things unobtainable
When I peek into your nature
And I promise you, my goals will exceed any physical pleasure
I wanna give you what's better than better
The better my effort, the wetter her treasure
The more these mere moments seem like heavens or
Temporary forevers
Shawty, get it together
Diced pineapple
May your love come down, so my mind might have you
You design my imagination, let me redefine foreplay
Till you need five and tell me shawty, you got it, baby
If it's not it, baby, hope it's progress, baby
Let it all drip, baby
Till you stop that shakin', no more talkin', baby
No more talkin', baby
Huh, shawty so fine, pussy so fresh
Diced pineapples, damn, my baby taste the best
I nearly lost my mind, guess it was a test
Swept her off her feet and went and bought her ass a Lex
Paid it off, cash, so I never wrote a check
Leave my cars at her crib, I'm just stuntin' on her ex
Pussy's excellent and I know it sound a mess
I love to make her toes curl as I'm lickin' on her flesh (Huh)
Sex all night, couple shots of Cîroc
Crib on the water, got LeBron up the block
Money ain't a thing, baby, welcome to the mob
Diced pineapples, talkin' diamonds by the jar
Bitch so bad, got me wishin' I could sing
Her uniform Isabel Marant, when you on the team
Double MG, them other **** fell off
Baby girl, I just wanna see you well off
Call me crazy, shit, at least you're calling
Feels better when you let it out, don't it, girl
Know it's easy to get caught up in the moment
When you say it 'cause you mad, then you take it all back
Then we fuck all night till things get right
Then we fuck all night till things get right, oh, yeah
Shawty so fine, pussy so fresh
Diced pineapples, I just bought my girl a set
I know my lifestyle wild, I do it for the sex
She know how to make me smile, and she do it with the sex
Pop bottles, make love, thug passion
Red bottoms, Moncler, high fashion
Belt buckles, door handles, gold plated
Balmain, rich denim, out Vegas
French Riviera, baby girl, let's take a trip
I'ma trip, go to Cannes, France to catch a flick
Baby listen, this position is a blessin' and with your permission
Hopefully you'll learn a lesson (Huh)
I'm so fly that I shouldn't even walk
She so fine, she ain't even gotta talk
Diced pineapples, talkin' diamonds by the jar
She never wrote a song, but I know that she's a star
Call me crazy, shit, at least you're calling
Feels better when you let it out, don't it, girl
Know it's easy to get caught up in the moment
When you say it 'cause you mad, then you take it all back
Then we fuck all night till things get right
Then we fuck all night till things get right, oh, yeah
Somethin' about her, probably can't live without her
Roll up some sour, let me kiss on the fountain
Mission accomplished, you increasin' your heart rate
And I won't ever rest, we meet at the peak of your mountain
Eager to show you, thinkin' that I should know you
And you eager to work, perfect, I can employ you
Designer shit, spoil you, rub you down with the oil
To get on a higher tree, gon' have to climb a sequoia, hold up
You're showin' off some Agent Provocateur
Rushin' you out your drawers, though patiently get you off
Hate when they be too anxious though, hate when they be too dull
Like to go deep, but I hate to get too deeply involved (Word)
How sweet is you? (Sweet is you)
Let me see some proof
Fuck makin' pussy talk, I like to make it sing a tune
All we need is we, we don't need no room
Right now I'm tryna eat, and we don't need a spoon
Call me crazy, shit, at least you calling
Feels better when you let it out, don't it, girl
Know it's easy to get caught up in the moment
When you say it 'cause you mad, then you take it all back
Then we fuck all night till things get right
Then we fuck all night till things get right, oh, yeah
Written by: Aubrey Drake Graham, Carl McCormick, Olubowale Akintimehin, William Roberts