[feat. Rick Ross, Nicki Minaj]
[Intro: Meek Mill]
There's three types of niggas in life
Niggas that make it happen
Niggas that watch it happen
And niggas that don't even know what the fuck is going on
[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
I got all these bad bitches twerkin'
Waves on swim, shit surfin'
I don't wanna ya'll niggas 'round me
Broke niggas make me nervous
Chick say she want that paper
Pop pussy like she workin'
Damn, a nigga finally famous
Wild bout it then I'm swervin' (SKR SKR!, SKR! SKR!)
Fuck rap, I might sell swag
She want me 'cause she know I got that Chanel tag
She fuck me and she gone get that Chanel swag
Her boyfriend like, "Where you get that Chanel bag?"
55 hundo, pop green, and I ball
Catch me, North-South, with a dime ho
Turnt up, but I'm like keep calm ho
I go, make a million here, million there
All of my niggas, we really in here
Got a bad bitch, and she straight from the hood
But she look like a foreign, brazilian hair
And I'm grabbin' her remi
I bust like a semi, yo bitch (BA BA!)
I get your girl pregnant
You hatin' all on me, you sick (HA HA!)
I ride in my hood in a Bently like it's a Crown Vic (SKR SKR!)
These bitches is choosin'
You niggas is losin'
[Hook: Meek Mill]
Wanna fuck with a dope dealer?
Or keep fuckin' them broke niggas?
And I don't fuck with you ho niggas (NAH!)
Rollie yellow like Homer Simpson
That's dope, nigga!
[Verse 2: Nicki Minaj]
I got all these dope dealers serving.
Cut the work up, they surgeons.
I don't want y'all bitches 'round me.
Whack bitches make me curve 'em.
Imported rug, that's Persian.
One wheel up and we swervin'.
Wetter than a lake, that's Ricki!
Pop pussy like she Nicki.
She want me cause she see me in that Aventador
Pull up on the curb so crazy, I done bent the door.
Bad bitch wanna borrow it, I lent it to her.
Make her bust that pussy up in Singapore.
30 million though, Forbes list.
Out in Philly in a condo, boss shit.
Now they call me Young Oprah; Harpo.
In the pool rockin' polo, Marco
Millionaires, never do leers.
No, they can't see me, they're never my peers.
Fruits of my labor, go get me my pears,
Cause you're outta your element; I am your fear.
So go get off my testicle, pardon my decimal, bitch!
Check up my resumé, I'm upper echelon rich.
Them bikes is out and we throwing 'em up like we sick.
My clothing line is out in them stores and I'm sipping the Myx.
[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
DC, Double M
Say my name and bitch I gotta grant your wish (BOSS!)
50 minions, 30 K
You better drop that brick (drop that brick)
Philly brothers, sometimes they call me Ahh! (call me Ahh!)
I pray to God, everyday I drop my top (Thank you Lord!)
Humble man with me in the low with me
I'm the shit comin and I'm throwin the street
Sam McGoo, the Willy Falcone
Flamboyant dough boy, talkin' Al Capone (ROSAY!)
From Monte Carlo to Los Muchachos
My mexicano now talkin jackles
It's jury tampered one a nigga push that button
On the corner Pacman Jones, these niggas know I'm nuttin
You wanna fuck with a dope dealer?
Or keep fuckin them broke niggas?
My sneaker deal like 8 ounce
We drink beer layin like saint Oz
It's your life
It's your decisions
It's your outcome
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