Wiggle
Wiggle

Rick Ross ft. DreamDoll - Wiggle Lyrics

16
Wiggle Music Video

Wiggle Lyrics

Bitch, I'm the richest nigga ya know
And I'ma fuck you better than any other
Rich nigga you done fucked, ya heard me?
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
Yeah, get in line hoe (woo)
Jiggle, jiggle, jiggle, jiggle

Yo (M-M-Maybach Music)
They offered thirty years, I beat it on the loophole (boss)
Two days later, nigga pulled up in a two-tone (huh)
Got bitches sleepin' on the floor like it's a group home
The only question I can see is where your moves? Ah
Got 'em takin' off they clothes like it's The Luke Show (Luke Show)
I'm the new king of Miami, even Luke know
I got a mansion on the beach, I'm talkin' two boats (Two boats)
And my new bitch of the week, I call her Deepthroat
Deepthroat, yeah, she got a deep throat
Bape sweats and a chemist with the kilos
Drop the top and all the hoes start hyperventilating
I gave 'em dick and then they all just turned to mental patients
Give 'em thirst advances under different circumstances
Uber to my house but go and get some purse and panties
You got a dope boy, you better live with it
Time of the month, you bleedin' on me, I'ma still hit it, uh

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, whoa (ayy)
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, whoa (ayy)
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, whoa (ayy)
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, whoa (ayy)

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
Them hoes on you gotta
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
If it ain't about a bag, gotta
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
To get the jeans on the ass, you gotta
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle

Uh, I hit Miami, I got Johnny on the trap phone (whoa)
Bad bitches, jet skis, we in that zone
Booby trap on a river, a hundred racks thrown
At Versace mansion sleepin' good like I'm back home
Boss bitch, give a fuck what it cost, bitch
You ever bet against Dream, that's your loss, bitch
Wrist bussin', disgusting, my shit is frostbit (whoa)
Ms. Mamas in that Maybach, and this ain't Ross shit (Maybach Music)
On a big yachty, not a little boat (No cap)
My bitches fuck with Cohiba's and do a little coke
Eggshell Birken bag, with a little yolk
If you ain't at the game courtside, you a little broke
I gotta giggle at niggas who not official
My rearview, blue lights flashin', I gotta wiggle
Shit in my trunk heavy, who know how much time it get you?
Yo Rozay, this shit outta here, we got a missile (Dream)

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
Them hoes on you gotta
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
If it ain't about a bag, gotta
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
To get the jeans on the ass, you gotta
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle

Whoa (ayy), wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
Whoa (ayy), wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
Whoa (ayy), wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
Whoa (ayy), wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle

Whoa (ayy)
Whoa (ayy), wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
Whoa (ayy)
Whoa (ayy), jiggle, jiggle, jiggle, jiggle
Whoa (ayy)
Whoa (ayy)
Whoa (ayy)

Writer(s): Byron O. Thomas, Donald Cannon, Lyle Anthony Leduff, Samuel Saint-Jean, Tabatha Robinson, Terius Gray, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group, Royalty Network, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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