Rick Ross, John Legend, French Montana - Touch The Sky lyrics
Rick Ross [William Leonard Roberts II] Clarksdale, Mississippi, U.S. 🇺🇸
John Legend [John Roger Stephens] Springfield, Ohio, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Rick Ross, John Legend, French Montana - Touch The Sky lyrics]
Fresh out the gate
We gon' flood 'em
You know what it is (Hitmaker)
It's that Moroccan Sahara Desert where it meet the ocean at (So)
(Montana)
Turn it up til you can't turn (Han)
I'm pass different
Five bitches, I Saks Fifth 'em
They smoke weed but that Moroccan hash different
Glass pots to glass whippin'
One on one, bag different
Born Muslim but the tag Christian
Golden beach mansions
2002 Steve Francis
Too hard for your weak glance
They tried to break the bond like Will and Jada
And when they drop the bond I'ma free the wave up
I cop cribs by the kilometers
Cruisin' through Medina
Black hawks risin' like the phoenix
Six feet, it don't get more under
Till then glass floors with the Pitbulls under
Competition full of tricks and bundles
That's a sucker sport
Couldn't beat us in the streets so they won in court
Don't get me started
My crib, da carter
From New York but ain't no squares in my garden
Yeah, don't it feel like the rain's on my side
'Cause when it feels right my hands touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon while I touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon my vibe
Let us out back on these clowns, my head in the clouds
Whoever did me foul, she regrettin' it now
I play the music loud when I'm dickin' her down
A decorated crib, they call it nostalgia
I bet the way I live they find it arousin'
It is what it is, impeccable housin'
Alkaline water, blue champagne
I went to Jacob with a duffle on my campaign
Fast money still I suffer from a lack of patience
Back to basics
Broke nigga vaccinations
Me and French, Hall of Fame, comin' off the bench
A Richard Mille, new Mclaren and the baddest bitch
My doors butterfly for the summertime
Top floor, the Faena when she one of mine
They lost the ravioli and that's for the guys
It's the sunset, my hitters is on the rise
Yeah, don't it feel like the rain's on my side
'Cause when it feels right my hands touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon while I touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon my vibe
It feel good don't it?
It feel good don't it?
Don't it feel like, ooh
We gon' flood 'em
You know what it is (Hitmaker)
It's that Moroccan Sahara Desert where it meet the ocean at (So)
(Montana)
Turn it up til you can't turn (Han)
I'm pass different
Five bitches, I Saks Fifth 'em
They smoke weed but that Moroccan hash different
Glass pots to glass whippin'
One on one, bag different
Born Muslim but the tag Christian
Golden beach mansions
2002 Steve Francis
Too hard for your weak glance
They tried to break the bond like Will and Jada
And when they drop the bond I'ma free the wave up
I cop cribs by the kilometers
Cruisin' through Medina
Black hawks risin' like the phoenix
Six feet, it don't get more under
Till then glass floors with the Pitbulls under
Competition full of tricks and bundles
That's a sucker sport
Couldn't beat us in the streets so they won in court
Don't get me started
My crib, da carter
From New York but ain't no squares in my garden
Yeah, don't it feel like the rain's on my side
'Cause when it feels right my hands touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon while I touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon my vibe
Let us out back on these clowns, my head in the clouds
Whoever did me foul, she regrettin' it now
I play the music loud when I'm dickin' her down
A decorated crib, they call it nostalgia
I bet the way I live they find it arousin'
It is what it is, impeccable housin'
Alkaline water, blue champagne
I went to Jacob with a duffle on my campaign
Fast money still I suffer from a lack of patience
Back to basics
Broke nigga vaccinations
Me and French, Hall of Fame, comin' off the bench
A Richard Mille, new Mclaren and the baddest bitch
My doors butterfly for the summertime
Top floor, the Faena when she one of mine
They lost the ravioli and that's for the guys
It's the sunset, my hitters is on the rise
Yeah, don't it feel like the rain's on my side
'Cause when it feels right my hands touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon while I touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon my vibe
It feel good don't it?
It feel good don't it?
Don't it feel like, ooh