Rick Ross
Lyric guide

Luxury Tax

Read Luxury Tax lyrics by Rick Ross on LyroVerse, with linked artist context and related song paths.

Rick Ross visibility0 visits
person Curated by Ethan Walker LyroVerse team
Reference snapshot

The page facts to cite before the commentary

Use this page for the lyric text, linked artist context, and any LyroVerse editor's note attached to the song. Listener comments remain user-generated and should not be treated as the primary source.

Page type: lyric reference Artist: Rick Ross Canonical path: /rick-ross/luxury-tax Related lyric paths: 6
Lyrics

Luxury Tax

The lyric stays readable and compact here; the note and related paths sit nearby so you do not lose the song while looking for context.

(feat. Lil Wayne, Trick Daddy & Young Jeezy)

[Lil Wayne:]

I think we got a problem

Yeahh...

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]

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 isnt you.

Stay fresh from my top to my tennis shoes.

New coop, no top, big tennis shoes.

Never slipped, not even on the side of a swimming pool.

We don't get rid of Q,

We get rid of fools.

They said I couldn't play football I was too small.

Yhey say I could'ntplay basketball I wasn't tall.

They say I could'ntplay baseball at all.

And now everyday of my life I ball.

And they say it ain't raining until someone assassinate,

And I feel like MLK

Yeah... I have a dream to be your worst nightmare,

And now meet the boss of the cartel.

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]

I'm a seven-nine satan, sitting on Lorenzzes.

And I seem really patient, picture the equation.

People taking pictures and they really getting fragrant.

Flags down my spaceship, sergeant searching for a fragrance.

Yayo, Yayo, he wanna sniff the yayo, flying saucer on the hasa

In the casa just to lay-low.

Make more (money man) that the model for the mob,

Need a blowjob 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 spending doe, flipping for my kin 'fo

Let you raid tax on them packs if you didn't know

Bought a new crib, niggas feeling like I hid.

3.2 but I just did it for the kids.

More guns than a pawn shop,

Got my whole arm rocked.

Keep the 760 double parked in the wrong spot.

Still huustling...

BOSSS

[Chorus: Lil Wayne]

Yeah... You gotta pay for this,

I remember when I used to pray for this.

This, this is classic,

So this shit you might never 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.

[Verse 3: Young Jeezy]

(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, goodluck 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 finshline,

Putting food on the table like it's dinner time.

And this is what you call sterotyping about?

Can you tell me my 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 crape, it's locking up in no time.

More time in the kitchen then I spent in the studio,

Case 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.

Hahaha...

[Chorus: Lil Wayne]

[Verse 4: Trick Daddy]

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 looking at my pants sagging,

I'm getting money, and my swaging and black flagging.

Million dollor status, fully automatic.

Heavy on the? and even harder on the women.

If it wasn't for reverend,

I probably would pimpin and shit.

Pops, my papai, has already hear me.

Tied trapping, shit sent me to prison,

Got mad and went to savage so homocide 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 dogg,

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: Lil Wayne]

Quick answers

What this page can answer fast

Who performs "Luxury Tax"?

Rick Ross performs "Luxury Tax", and this lyric page sits inside the Rick Ross catalog on LyroVerse.

Are there related songs to explore after "Luxury Tax"?

Yes. The related section below points to 2 Shots (feat. Kevin Cossom) and The Boss with a short reason for opening each page next.

Where can I find more songs by Rick Ross?

Use the artist link near the top of the page or the related paths section below to keep moving through Rick Ross's lyric pages.

Song Room

Interpretations, questions, and corrections for this song

Interpretations, questions, memories, and correction notes live together here. The room stays noindex while the best insights are reviewed.

Open Song Room
0 followers Selected insights only surface after moderation
Listener comments

What people are saying

0 comments
Add a short interpretation or memory

A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.

Sign in to post the first listener note. Reporting stays open to everyone.

No listener comments on Luxury Tax yet.