«Season Ticket Holder»: Αυτό είναι το νέο τραγούδι του Ντουέιν Ουέιντ (vid)

• Στίχοι

Ο «Flash» βρίσκει πολλά πράγματα να κάνει μετά την σύνταξή του: από το να στηρίζει τον γιο του - αλλά και του ΛεΜπρόν - στους αγώνες του, μέχρι να δοκιμάζει και να φτιάχνει κρασιά, αλλά και να κυκλοφορεί τραγούδια.

Το πρώτο single του είναι γεγονός, καθώς συμμετέχει μαζί με τον Ουντόνις Χάρλεμ στο «Season Ticket Holder» του Rick Ross και του Raphael Saadiq.

Το τραγούδι κάνει αναφορά στα 16 χρόνια καριέρας του Ουέιντ και τα 3 πρωταθλήματα με τους Μαϊάμι Χιτ, αλλά και στην ζωή του γενικότερα.

Στο επίσημο video clip διακρίνονται και στιγμιότυπα με τον Κόμπι Μπράιαντ.

Στίχοι

[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 fingers

Pockets 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