LYRICS
Use A− / A+ to adjust text sizeMiami (remix) (feat. Lil Wayne & Rick Ross)
(Miami) It ain't nothin' like where I'm from, nahYeah, I can't keep my gun in my truck in MiamiThey don't know my name at these barsAnd you can't even see any stars in MiamiYou got me MIA for a couple days nowBut it don't hit the same as my Tennessee town (Miami)Except for gettin' sand in my bootsAsk yourself, "What the hell is a redneck gon' do in Miami? "MiamiYeah, yeahMulaNow it get cold in New Orleans, but temporaryAnd she know that I'm colder than Refrigerator PerryAnd she don't wanna go to New Orleans'cause I'm a Gator, so we go to southBeach, just say it's perfect 'fore our weddingnow stop sweating in aCherokee, without the doors, don't get no sand in my JeepI'm 'bout to call, she look at melike "Nigga, please, " so I please the bitchWe up in Liv on Sunday, I'm like, "Jesus, bitch"Party in the 305, we so high, we go liveyou're my C-O-brideCan't believe your eyes for eatin' that prime ribI eat so much shrimp, I got a damn poisonin'I can't even swim, but I could throw a yacht partyWe're real lit in MiamiI'm like Will Smith in MiamiI'm like Uncle Luke, Trick DaddyMe and Trina almost got married, shitGot a bando on CollinsCan't see stars, just our islandI got a target on my walletbut like Morgan, boy, I'm wildin' 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 inMiamiYou got me MIA for a couple days nowBut 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, uhFeelin' good in my two seaterTop down, it's too easyYacht season in MiamiSun's out, too breezySwimsuits on South BeachCondo for my side pieceChange of plans, let's just shopBlue duffle bag, two hundred G'sLife's short, so live fastCorvette with the rear ragCry once, not twiceReally hurt when my dad passMake a toast, let's drink to itStill real with my day onesAnd I'm still down to die for youPray 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 inMiamiYou got me MIA for a couple days nowBut 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 fromBut like Morgan, boy, I'm wildin'
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