Tax
Rick Ross ft. Lil' Wayne & Young Jeezy Lyrics
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I think we got a problem
Yeah
Big money in this bitch if you didn't knew
Big business minus the business suit
Even I look in the mirror like is it you
And I say I must be the hottest if it isn't you
New coupe, no top, big tennis shoes
Never slipped, not even on the side of a swimming pool
We don't get ridiculed,
We get rid of fools
They said I couldn't play football I was too small
They say I couldn't play basketball I wasn't tall
They say I couldn't play baseball at all
And now everyday of my life I ball!
And they say ya' ain't raining until someone assassinate,
And I feel like M-L-K
Yeah, I have a dream to be your worst nightmare,
And now meet the boss of the cartel
(Ross!)
I'm a seven-nine Satan, sitting on Lorenz's
And I seem really patient, picture the equation
People taking pictures and they really getting fragrant
Flags down my spaceship, sergeant sniffin' for a fragrance
Yeyo, Yeyo, he wanna sniff the yeyo, flying saucer on the house
In the casa just to lay-low
Make more (money man) that the model for the mob
Need a blow-job my model, get a model for the job
Go hard, no job, hustler, no prob, poster,
Nigga what finger fuck you whole squad.
Forty around extendo, flipping for my kin folk
Luxury tax on them packs if you didn't know
Bought a new crib, niggas feeling like I hid
Three point two but I just did it for the kids
More guns than a pawn shop,
Got my whole arm rocked.
Keep the seven sexty double parked in the wrong spot
Still hustling
Boss!
[Chorus]
Yeah
You gotta pay for this,
I remember when I used to pray for this
This, this is classic,
Some shit you might not see again
And we taxin', you don't want it nigga leave it then,
And we taxin', you don't want it nigga leave it then
And we ain't trying to see the pen,
Like a needle in a hay stack we ain't trying to see the pen
This is a luxury tax
(I don't ask them baby I just tax 'em baby)
(Let's go)
Yeah imagine this,
No imagine that
Gave me my sack like, good luck getting back (Yeah)
I'm like how the fuck I'm gonna get outta there
And if I'm not careful,
Leave 'em the same place they find him there
And I'm a winner if I make it cross the finish line,
Putting food on the table like it's dinner time
And this is what you call stereotyping by far?
Can you tell me me why your dog keep sniffing my car?
Huh? Got the audacity to call me a liar
So what you got in your trunk?
Oh, just a spare tire
You niggas talked blow,
While I sold mine
Like a bad cramp, it's locking up in no time
More time in the kitchen then I spent in the studio,
Gangsters paradise and I ain't talking about Coolio
Can't lie, still addicted to the odor
Got a ice cold Pepsi,
But still thinking Coke-Cola
Ha ha ha
[Chorus]
I'm up early in the morning, and I'm dressed in black
Hold on, every morning I get dressed in black
While your half ass, nigga my pants saggin',
I'm getting money, and my swaggin' and black flaggin'
Million dollar status, fully automatic
Heavy on the henny and even harder on the women
If it wasn't for rappin',
I probably would pimpin' and shit
Pops, my papi, has already hear me
I tried trapping, shit sent me to prison,
Got mad and went to savage so homicide came to visit
I smell gun powder,
So you got one hour to come up with every damn dollar,
Or your dun-dolla
It cost a ball dog,
Especially when the players on your team,
Consider you as the ball hog.
You treat me like Shaq,
And you Kobe but I didn't say you owe me nigga
But act like you know me nigga
[Chorus]
The song Luxury Tax is performed by Rick Ross and features Lil Wayne and Young Jeezy. The song opens with Ross acknowledging the opulence that surrounds him, noting that even he can hardly believe it. Ross asserts that he is the hottest thing around, and that he possesses a level of confidence that nothing can shake. The luxury he describes extends into his fashion sense, cars, and success as an athlete. The chorus is a warning about the luxury tax that the group imposes on those who wish to enter their world of wealth and success. Lil Wayne takes a turn on the mic to boast of his own journey to success and the challenges he faced along the way, including prison time. Young Jeezy rounds out the collaboration with a final verse about his own criminal past and embrace of a lavish lifestyle.
The lyrics to Luxury Tax are deeply intertwined with themes of success, luxury, and the hard work required to achieve both. Ross and his collaborators celebrate the trappings of their wealth and good fortune, but also make clear how much dedication and perseverance were needed to attain that level of success. The chorus serves as a warning to outsiders that they will need to pay the price if they want to enter this elite world of lavish spending and success. The verses that follow each lay out a different perspective on what it takes to achieve this level of wealth, and how that success changes a person. Together, the song showcases the rewards that come with being at the top of the game, while also highlighting the challenges that must be overcome to get there.
Line by Line Meaning
E-class
Referring to his Mercedes E-Class car
I think we got a problem
Implying that something big is about to happen
Big money in this bitch if you didn't knew
There is a lot of money here
Big business minus the business suit
They conduct big business operations but don't dress up for it
Even I look in the mirror like is it you
He is amazed at his own success
And I say I must be the hottest if it isn't you
He is the best in the game and there is no one better than him
Stay fresh from my top to my tennis shoes
He always looks fresh and stylish
New coupe, no top, big tennis shoes
He has a new car with no roof and wears big, expensive shoes
Never slipped, not even on the side of a swimming pool
He has never made a mistake, not even a minor one
We don't get ridiculed, We get rid of fools
They don't let anyone make fun of them, instead they eliminate the fools
They said I couldn't play football I was too small
He was told he was too small to play football
They say I couldn't play basketball I wasn't tall
He was told he wasn't tall enough to play basketball
They say I couldn't play baseball at all
He was told he couldn't play baseball at all
And now everyday of my life I ball!
He is successful in every aspect of his life
And they say ya' ain't raining until someone assassinate,
He feels like he is untouchable until someone tries to take him down
And I feel like M-L-K
He feels like Martin Luther King Jr. because he has a dream
Yeah, I have a dream to be your worst nightmare,
He wants to be his enemies' worst nightmare
And now meet the boss of the cartel
He is introducing himself as the boss of the organization
I'm a seven-nine Satan, sitting on Lorenz's
He is a powerful and dangerous figure
And I seem really patient, picture the equation
He appears to be patient, but there is something bigger happening behind the scenes
People taking pictures and they really getting fragrant
People are taking pictures and getting excited
Flags down my spaceship, sergeant sniffin' for a fragrance
His car is stopped and searched by the police
Yeyo, Yeyo, he wanna sniff the yeyo, flying saucer on the house
People want to buy drugs from him
In the casa just to lay-low
He hides from the police in his house
Make more (money man) that the model for the mob
He makes more money than anyone in the mob
Need a blow-job my model, get a model for the job
He needs someone to perform oral sex on him
Go hard, no job, hustler, no prob, poster,
He is a hard worker and doesn't have a regular job
Nigga what finger fuck you whole squad.
He doesn't care about his enemies and insults them
Forty around extendo, flipping for my kin folk
He carries a large gun to protect his family
Luxury tax on them packs if you didn't know
He charges a high price on his drugs
Bought a new crib, niggas feeling like I hid
He purchased a new house and nobody knows he did
Three point two but I just did it for the kids
He bought the house for his family
More guns than a pawn shop, Got my whole arm rocked.
He has many guns and he always carries one with him
Keep the seven sexty double parked in the wrong spot
He parks his car in a dangerous place
Still hustling Boss!
He is still working hard
You gotta pay for this, I remember when I used to pray for this
He reminds listeners of all the hard work he's done to get where he is
This, this is classic, Some shit you might not see again
This is a classic song that may never be replicated again
And we taxin', you don't want it nigga leave it then,
He charges high prices for his drugs and if you can't afford it, go somewhere else
And we ain't trying to see the pen,
He doesn't want to go to jail
Like a needle in a hay stack we ain't trying to see the pen
He doesn't want to get caught
This is a luxury tax
He charges extra for his drugs
Yeah imagine this, No imagine that
He is bragging about how great his life is
Gave me my sack like, good luck getting back (Yeah)
He has drugs and they won't be returned
I'm like how the fuck I'm gonna get outta there
He realizes he might be in trouble
And if I'm not careful, Leave 'em the same place they find him there
He might end up dead if he's not careful
And I'm a winner if I make it cross the finish line,
If he survives he will consider himself a winner
Putting food on the table like it's dinner time
He supports his family by selling drugs
And this is what you call stereotyping by far?
He questions people's judgment and stereotypes
Can you tell me me why your dog keep sniffing my car?
He thinks someone is spying on him
Huh? Got the audacity to call me a liar
He is insulted and angry
So what you got in your trunk? Oh, just a spare tire
He doesn't believe there is only a spare tire in the trunk
You niggas talked blow, While I sold mine
His competitors talked about selling drugs while he actually sold them
Like a bad cramp, it's locking up in no time
He compares his business rivals to a cramp that goes away quickly
More time in the kitchen then I spent in the studio,
He spends more time in the kitchen making drugs than he does recording music
Gangsters paradise and I ain't talking about Coolio
He lives in a dangerous place where gangs are common
Can't lie, still addicted to the odor
He is addicted to the smell of drugs
Got a ice cold Pepsi, But still thinking Coke-Cola
He drinks Pepsi but still wants Coca-Cola, showing he's always looking for something better
I'm up early in the morning, and I'm dressed in black
He wakes up early and always wears black
Hold on, every morning I get dressed in black
He emphasizes that he always wears black
While your half ass, nigga my pants saggin',
He's fully committed to his work while others are only partially committed
I'm getting money, and my swaggin' and black flaggin'
He is getting money while showing off his style and gang affiliation
Million dollar status, fully automatic
He is worth a million dollars and has guns to protect himself
Heavy on the henny and even harder on the women
He drinks heavily and is rough with women
If it wasn't for rappin', I probably would pimpin' and shit
He would be a pimp if he wasn't a rapper
Pops, my papi, has already hear me
His father is aware of what he does for a living
I tried trapping, shit sent me to prison,
He went to prison for selling drugs
Got mad and went to savage so homicide came to visit
He became violent and attracted the attention of the police
I smell gun powder, So you got one hour to come up with every damn dollar,
He is warning someone that he smells trouble and they need to give him money within one hour
Or your dun-dolla
They will be killed if they don't give him the money
It cost a ball dog, Especially when the players on your team, Consider you as the ball hog.
It's expensive to be the leader when everyone on your team considers you selfish
You treat me like Shaq, And you Kobe but I didn't say you owe me nigga But act like you know me nigga
He is comparing himself to Shaquille O'Neal and his rivals to Kobe Bryant. He doesn't say they owe him anything but they should respect him
Yeah
At the end of the song, he just repeats 'Yeah'
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., THE ADMINISTRATION MP, INC.
Written by: WILLIAM ROBERTS, JAY JENKINS, MAURICE YOUNG, DAVID OLIVER, DWAYNE CARTER, MICHAEL GRADNEY, KEVIN CROWE, ERIK ORTIZ
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind