Listen to Diced Pineapples (feat. Wale, Drake) by Rick Ross

Diced Pineapples (feat. Wale, Drake)

Rick Ross

Hip-Hop/Rap

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Rick Ross
Rick Ross
Vocals
Drake
Drake
Vocals
Wale
Wale
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
William Roberts
William Roberts
Songwriter
Carl McCormick
Carl McCormick
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Cardiak
Cardiak
Producer
John Rivers
John Rivers
Recording Engineer
Fabian Marasciullo
Fabian Marasciullo
Mixing Engineer
Alexander Dilliplane
Alexander Dilliplane
Assistant Recording Engineer
Chris Athens
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 ya, I'm tryin to see how deep you are And believe me shorty I ain't talking '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 Shorty get it together, hah, diced pineapple May your love come down so my mind might have you You designed my imagination Let me redefine foreplay 'til you need five and Tell me shorty you got it baby If it's not it baby, hope it's progress baby Let it all drip baby If you stop that shaking, no more talking baby No more talking baby Shorty so fine, pussy so fresh Diced pineapples, damn, my baby tastes 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 (ugh) Sex all night, couple shots of CÎROC Crib on the water, got LeBron up the block Money ain't the thing, baby, welcome to the mob Diced pineapples, talking diamonds by the jar Bitch so bad got me wishing I could sing Her uniform Isabel Marant when you on the team Double MG, them other niggas 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 'til things get right Then we fuck all night 'til things get right, aww yeah Shorty so fine, pussy so fresh Diced pineapples, I just bought my girl a set I know my lifestyle wild, I do it for the set 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 lets take a trip I'ma trip go to Cannes, France to catch a flick Baby listen, this position is a blessing And with your permission, hopefully you'll learn a lesson (Ugh) I'm so fly that I shouldn't even walk She so fine she ain't even gotta talk Diced pineapples, talking 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 'til things get right Then we fuck all night 'til things get right, aww yeah Something about her, probably can't live without her Roll up some sour, let me kiss on her fountain Mission accomplished, you increasing your heart rate And I won't ever rest, we meet at the peak of your mountain Eager to show you, thinking 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, gonna have to climb a sequoia Hol' up, showing off some Agent Provocateur Rushing 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 How sweet is you? (sweet is you?) Let me see some proof Fuck making 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 trying to eat, and we don't need a spoon 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 'til things get right Then we fuck all night 'til things get right, aww yeah
Writer(s): William Leonard Roberts, Aubrey Drake Graham, Olubowale Victor Akintimehin, Carl E. Mccormick Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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