Miami

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, she say it's perfect for our weddin'

I start sweatin' in a Cherokee without the doors

Don't get no sand in my Jeep on 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

If we go live, you might see your 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 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 the barn door on Collins, can't see stars, just Star Island

I got a target on my wallet, but like Morgan, boy, I'm wildin' in Miami (Miami)

Yeah, 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)

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 (It don't hit the same, yeah, yeah)

Except for gettin' sand in my boots

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?" (Miami)

(Maybach Music) Biggest boss, Ricky Rozay, 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, two hunnid G's

Life's short, so live fast, Corvette with the red rack

Cried once, not twice, really hurt when my Dad passed

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 that day comes (Miami)

Yeah, 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)

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 (It don't hit the same, yeah, yeah)

Except for gettin' sand in my boots

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?" (Miami)

It ain't nothin' like where I'm from, but like Morgan, boy, I'm wildin'