moved to miami Lyrics by Roddy Ricch (feat. Lil Baby)
Huh
Moved to Miami and copped me a boat (8—)
Hope my fiends don’t stop doin’ coke
Bitch, I’m a champ, on top of the ropes
New Louis V’s every time I tote
Nine millimeter every time I tote
I do all this shit without a stylist
I got money, never went to college
I got all my cars without the mileage
I can’t fuck on these ratchet-ass bitches, she ’bout to fuck the whole hood
I been stackin’ these hundreds inside the safe, so all my n***** know I’m good
Real street n****, keep it all in the TEC
Got the shooters on the side with bazookas in the back
Got a whole Amiri jean collection
And I ain’t choosin’ shit, this shit was destiny
Bitch, I cooked the water without the recipe
And the feds and the cops ain’t got no heart
How they gon’ take my lil’ cousin upstate? He was whippin’ to give all his children a start
Playin’ with that water, gotta be a shark
Swimmin’ with the fishes, duckin’ from the narcs
Thirteen, posted middle of the park
If you see an opp, gotta let it spark
Moved to Miami and copped me a boat
Hope my fiends don’t stop doin’ coke
Bitch, I’m a champ, on top of the ropes
New Louis V’s every time I tote
Nine millimeter every time I tote
I do all this shit without a stylist
I got money, never went to college
I got all my cars without the mileage
Three-five or better whenever I smoke
I see ’em doin’ it, but I do the most
I’ma do it for the bro ‘fore I do it for a ho
All this money that’s comin’, I’ll do it for ’em both
They ain’t runnin’ with me, nowhere near close
Shit be crazy what they’ll do for a post
You’ll go viral, but it won’t be no joke
I got power and I move like a ghost
In a ‘Rari doin’ one-sixty, controllin’ it
Big old Baby piece, them folks gotta notice me
I’m an artist, to the street, this shit poetry
Real trapper, never did nothin’ fraudulent
Send them boxes coast to coast like I’m Roddy Ricch
So just focus on yourself, you can buy the bitch
In Miami for a week, catchin’ vibes and shit
We got baddies on the boat gettin’ hot and shit
G6 make that shit come up out of me
Pink slips to the car if I’m drivin’ it
No withdrawals, only deposit it
Hundred K cash stuffed in my pockets
I’ma show these n***** how they should pop it
Forbes list, I’m tryna get on the top of it
I walk in, they start switchin’ the topic up
I feel any kind of threat and I’m poppin’ up
Moved to Miami and copped me a boat
Hope my fiends don’t stop doin’ coke
Bitch, I’m a champ, on top of the ropes
New Louis V’s every time I tote
Nine millimeter every time I tote
I do all this shit without a stylist
I got money, never went to college
I got all my cars without the mileage