Lil Wayne, Morgan Wallen, Rick Ross - Miami (feat. Lil Wayne & Rick Ross) - Remix

(Miami) it ain't nothin' like where I'm from, nah Yeah, I can't keep my gun in my truck in Miami They don't know my name at these bars And you can't even see any stars in Miami You got me MIA for a couple days now But it don't hit the same as my Tennessee town (Miami) Except for gettin' sand in my boots Ask yourself, "What the hell is a redneck gon' do in Miami?" Miami Yeah, yeah, Mula Now it get cold in New Orleans, but temporary And she know that I'm colder than Refrigerator Perry And she don't wanna go to New Orleans, it's Armageddon, so we go to South Beach, just say it's perfect for our weddin', I start sweatin' in a Cherokee, without the doors, don't get no sand in my Jeep or my decor She look at me like, "Nigga, please," so I pleased the bitch We up in Liv on Sunday, I'm like, "Jesus, bitch" Party in the 305, we so high, we go live, you might see yo' bride Can't believe your eyes, we eat at Prime and I eat so much shrimp, I got iodine poisonin' I can't even swim, but I could throw a yacht party We're real lit in Miami, I'm like Will Smith in Miami I'm like Uncle Luke, Trick Daddy, me and Trina almost got married, shit Got a barn door on Collins, can't see stars, just Star Island I got a target on my wallet, but like Morgan, boy, I'm Wallen in Miami (Miami) it ain't nothin' like where I'm from, nah (nothin' like where I'm from) Yeah, I can't keep my gun in my truck in Miami (I still keep my gun) They don't know my name at these bars (they don't know my name) And you can't even see any stars in Miami You got me MIA for a couple days now But it don't hit the same as my Tennessee town (Miami, it don't hit the same) Except for gettin' sand in my boots (yeah) Ask yourself, "What the hell is a redneck gon' do in Miami?" Yeah, ask yourself, "What the hell is a nigga gon' do in Miami?" (Maybach Music) biggest boss, Ricky Rose, uh Feelin' good in my two-seater, top down, it's too easy Yacht season in Miami, sun's out, too breezy Swimsuits on South Beach, condo for my side piece Change of plans, let's just shop, blue duffle bag, 200 Gs Life's short, so live fast, Corvette with the rear rag Cry once, not twice, really hurt when my dad pass Make a toast, let's drink to it, still real with my day ones And I'm still down to die for you, pray for me when my day comes (Miami) it ain't nothin' like where I'm from, nah (nothin' like where I'm from) Yeah, I can't keep my gun in my truck in Miami (I still keep my gun) They don't know my name at these bars (they don't know my name) And you can't even see any stars in Miami You got me MIA for a couple days now But it don't hit the same as my Tennessee town (Miami, it don't hit the same) Except for gettin' sand in my boots (yeah) Ask yourself, "What the hell is a redneck gon' do in Miami?" Yeah, ask yourself, "What the hell is a nigga gon' do in Miami?" It ain't nothin' like where I'm from But like Morgan, boy, I'm wildin'