"Diced Pineapples" lyrics - RICK ROSS

RICK ROSS

"Diced Pineapples"

(C. McCormick / W. Roberts)

feat. Drake & Wale

[Intro: Wale]
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

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
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 CIROC
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

[Chorus: Drake]
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

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
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

[Verse 3: Wale]
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