Rick Ross – Yacht Club Lyrics

Produced By: J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League

You pyonged “Rick Ross – Yacht Club”

Save Note No Thanks
Caution: You are now annotating this song as

[Rick Ross & Magazeen]
Yea, just something different you know
Ricky Ross, the big boss
It's a secret society baby
All we ask is trust
Nothing's changed
Run with me or run from me, yeah
Pussys don't get pussy, yeah
It's the yacht club baby
I got this
(Maybach Music!) (J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League)

[Rick Ross]
He's not bigger than Biggie, bitch I'm bigger than you
It's just a boat to mi casa like a milli or two
Gotta kick off your shoes, okay let's take a cruise
Here's my captain now relax, let him do what he do
Okay who rolling spinach? Cause I'm reeling the anchor
Smoke up an acre a grass, wake up in Jamaica
Couple nautical miles, I call my Cubanos to cop
Puerto Rico for women, hit Barbados to shop
Living larger than life call this the yacht club
Before you join us bitch ya gotta get your stocks up
She's walking back and forth, she's just itching to fuck
And then I heard her wisper: "Girl you know he's rich as fuck"

Travel the seven seas, there is no better breeze
If he indulging jealousy his ass better breathe
Man overboard cause he going overboard
Damn it's over for him put that on my vocal chord

[Hook: Magazeen]
There's a party (party), going on
All the girls they welcome
To the Yacht Cluuuuuub
Magazeen (Magazeen)
Let them in (let them in)

[Rick Ross]
My talk is priceless
Turn me up a little bit
I feel bossy

Kill all the middle men I'm the militant Gilligan
Speaking Creole and gentlemen as I cruise the Caribbean
Oh Lord I'm a star down in St. Barts
The fat Tommy Lee I made out with like eight broads
Put up in Costa Rica, I get the most of features
She no *speakay no englay*, maybe Fat Joe could teach her
Smoking barrels of reefer, only the yacht club
Before you join us bitch ya gotta get your stocks up
Travel the seven seas, there is no better breeze
When we started selling keys that's just how we thought it would be
No one agrees with me, but that's just how it goes
I'm the greedy genious no reference to the ugly clothes
I still hustle for dope, but no more me scuffin' my soles
Make the presentation and trust me the customer sold
I'm crusing in the gulf, I think your so deaf
Janet was in control, because the ho left

[Hook: Magazeen]

[Rick Ross]
My dick a big stretch and quick to tell a bitch fetch
Tell you to kiss her ass, after you bought the bitch breasts
Her head above average, my head above water
By now you could see my palace, right off the coast of Florida
I'm into fine fish with a slight lime twist
Veggies on the side of course, kush appetizers

Let your Mercedes chill, roll with a Navy Seal
This the yacht club, wanna trust me your lady will
Still spilling champagne, or is it merlot
Fuck it it's fine wine,
my bitch a Virgo
I don't do the signs, unless there dollars on 'em
I'm the boss of the boat, cashmere collar on 'em
Thinking of last year, and all the money's made
Now it's corporate invested, amongst the other things
No one agrees with me, but that's just how it goes
I'm the greedy genius no reference to the ugly clothes

[Hook: Magazeen]

Edit song description to add:

  • Historical context: what album the song's on, how popular it was
  • An explanation of the song's overall story (example: "In this song, Eminem corresponds with a crazed fan who ends up...")
  • The sample used for the beat — use WhoSampled.com and wikipedia as references
Song lyrics have been changed by someone else. Copy your work to your clipboard and click here to reload.