Rick Ross & UD40 & Raphael Saadiq & Dwyane Wade - Rap, Basketball
Season Ticket Holder by Rick Ross & UD40 & Raphael Saadiq & Dwyane Wade Lyrics
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Duration: 4:02
Lyrics
[Intro: Dwyane Wade & Udonis Haslem] Hey UD What's good my boy? Mister 305 (Yessir) Wade County Sixteen years later We done made history Three rings on our fingersPockets gettin' fatter (Uh) Nigga we gettin' bread [Verse 1: Dwyane Wade] I'm the son of a saint, still considered a sinner (Ha) Three rings on his finger, yeah, that boy was a winner (Winner) Never known as a singer but this might be a single (Facts) Always bet on your homies, then go buy the casino (Ballin') Ball is my passion, check my stats if they askin' (Uh) Shawty checkin' my page, she follow my fashion (I'm clean) My life is a film and Gab's the lead She's so precious to me, as the air that I breathe Time to fuel up the jet, D-Wade jersey the drip (Yeah) Lamborghini's to match, got Guccis on the strip (Oh yeah) These haters beneath us as I'm lacin' my sneakers (You dig?) Season sixteen, Lamborghinis and Neimans [Verse 2: Rick Ross] I'm shootin' my shot (Shot), every car that I cop (Cop) Every record I break (Break), every rock in my watch (Ah) Every step that I take (Take), still won't step no mistakes (No) I'm talkin' major league, never minimum wage So proud to be niggas (Niggas), the descent of a slave (Uh) Motorcades, silver Mercedes, so get out my way Tangerines, still in my slippers, still twistin' up dank Shed a tear for all my homies, Black Bo and E. Gates Let's find a masseuse, then inspire the youth If it's best for the hood, then let's call it a truce My chains get tangled (Tangled), these niggas be hateful (Hate) My momma still prayin' (Prayin'), so really I'm grateful (Maybach Music) [Chorus: Raphael Saadiq] I'm still here, lookin' through the window Watchin' the days go by Watchin' the sun rise, why don't you try? Ah-ha, ah-ha, ah-ha I'm still here, lookin' through the window Watchin' the days go by Watchin' the sun rise, why don't you try? Ah-ha, ah-ha, ah-ha [Verse 3: Rick Ross] I promise to pray for a positive fate Had the world in your palms, but he caught him a case Shed a tear in the court, he got boxed in the crate Then they shipped him up North, mom just sat in a daze The bottles on ice, the models be nice (Yeah) We call it running shoe, any problems deny Serve him like Boris Becker, I want two hunnid Checkers So if they wanna slow our records, it just won't affect us Take my boys to Mecca (Boss), all my niggas blessed (Maybach Music) Smokin' with my dawgs, you can smell the relish They try to give me Hell, I bet I get to Heaven I stay away from twelve, I'm such a gifted felon I'm seated on the floor (Floor) She can see the loafers (Woo) Showin' love to the season ticket holders (Woo) Showin' love to the season ticket holders (Woo) Showin' love to the season ticket holders (Woo) [Interlude: Dwyane Wade & Udonis Haslem] We do this for the city, U (What?) The whole city [Chorus: Raphael Saadiq] I'm still here, lookin' through the window Watchin' the days go by Watchin' the sun rise, why don't you try? Ah-ha, ah-ha, ah-ha I'm still here, lookin' through the window Watchin' the days go by Watchin' the sun rise, why don't you try? Ah-ha, ah-ha, ah-ha [Outro: Dwyane Wade & Udonis Haslem] Man, how does it feel, dawg? You love doin' this How does it feel? Shit it feel great, baby, I know [?] South Beach 'til I got [?] I just want to know that my boy Man listen, we put on for the city, sixteen years Five finals, three rings, we put those trophies over here We put on for the- shit, let me calm down Man, let me calm down, man fuck Don't calm down my nigga You the mothafuckin' Mr. 305, nigga, do what you do Nigga I got my own county Listen, the love of the city has been crazy, man, I appreciate it all Thanks for giving my own county I told these niggas man, you got a beast? I gotta cross that bridge, nigga can't play with us, man Can't do nothing 'round here Hey Ross, man, ain't nothin' but love, baby Big homie, you know what it is, always Still with the shits, three rings later though
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Meaning of "Season Ticket Holder" by Rick Ross
The lyrics paint a picture of enduring success and legacy, framed by the specific context of basketball legends Dwyane Wade and Udonis Haslem. The opening lines immediately establish a sense of accomplishment, with Wade noting "Sixteen years later, We done made history" and "Three rings on our fingers." This sets a tone of pride and reflection on a long career, emphasizing not just individual achievement but also the wealth and status that came with it, as indicated by "Pockets gettin' fatter." The narrative then shifts to a more personal reflection on Wade's identity, acknowledging a duality: "I'm the son of a saint, still considered a sinner." This internal contrast adds depth, suggesting that outward success doesn't erase personal complexities or past struggles. Rick Ross's verses amplify this theme of sustained dominance and resilience. He asserts his continued impact with lines like "every car that I cop" and "every record I break," framing his life as a series of major achievements rather than mundane work. There's a powerful acknowledgment of his roots and the sacrifices made, "So proud to be niggas, the descent of a slave," juxtaposed with his current opulent lifestyle. This contrast highlights a journey from hardship to immense prosperity, a testament to overcoming systemic barriers. The mention of "Tangerines, still in my slippers, still twistin' up dank" offers a glimpse into a relaxed, yet still luxurious, present. The chorus, sung by Raphael Saadiq, introduces a contemplative, almost melancholic, counterpoint. "I'm still here, lookin' through the window / Watchin' the days go by" suggests a moment of quiet observation amidst the grandeur. It hints at a sense of detachment or perhaps a recognition of time's passage, even as the verses celebrate ongoing triumphs. This recurring motif provides a grounding element, reminding the listener that even those at the pinnacle of success experience moments of introspection and witness the world from a fixed point. Ultimately, the lyrics coalesce around the idea of a lasting impact and a deep connection to community and origin. The interlude and outro reinforce the bond between Wade and Haslem, emphasizing their dedication to "the city." The repeated phrase "Showin' love to the season ticket holders" in Ross's verse grounds the high-flying lifestyle in a tangible appreciation for the fans and the game itself. The closing remarks solidify their status as icons who have not forgotten their journey, with Wade proclaiming, "Nigga I got my own county," a powerful declaration of earned territory and influence.
This AI-assisted editorial analysis was reviewed, improved, and approved by the LyricsWeb editorial team.
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Credits
- Writers
- Sap
- Raphael Saadiq
- UD40
- Dwyane Wade
- Rick Ross