Miami (remix) (feat. Morgan Wallen & Rick Ross)

(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 if you're callin' New Orleans, but temporary
And she know that I'm colder than Refrigerator Perry
And she don't wanna go to New Orleans 'cause I'm a Gator, so we go to south
Bitch, just say it's perfect 'fore our wedding, stop sweating in 'em
Cherokee, without the doors, don't get no sayin' in my Jeep
I'm 'bout to call, she look at me like Nigga, please: So I please the bitch
We up in [?] on Sunday, I'm like: Jesus, bitch
Party in the 305, we so high, we go live when they see your bride
Can't believe your eyes for eatin' that prime rib
I eat so much shrimp, I got a damn poisonin'
I can't even swim, but I could throw a yacht party
We're really 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 bando on Collins
Can't see stars, just start eyein'
I got a target on my wallet, but 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 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 redneck gon' do in Miami?

Biggest boss, Ricky Ross, ayy, uh
Feelin' got my two seeder
Chop down, this too easy
Y'all seasonin' Miami
Sun's out, too breezy
Swimsuits on South Beach
Condo for my sign peace
Changin' plans, let's [?]
Big double bag, two hundred jeans
Life's short, so live fast
Corvette with the rear rag
Cry once, not twice
Really hurt when my dad pass
Make a dose, let's drink to it
Still real with my day ones
And I'm still dying 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 redneck gon' do in Miami?
It ain't nothin' like where I'm from
But like Morgan, boy, I'm wildin'