Lyrics

[Verse 1: Meek Mill] Yeah I stay shiny, mind clear, with the jewels drippin' off 'em She say I be killin' em, I say get a coffin Stuntin', I be often, they like "What it cost him?" Whole team full of green, you would think we Boston Spalding, ballin', flow be on the faucet Middle man, shut yo damn mouth, call a boss in Big money on the table, nigga, why you talkin'? Black and yellow Maro, murder scene, caution Tape, scrape, all I get is hate Chillin' in the mansion, all you see is gate She say that I'm handsome, she thinking 'bout a date But I'm just tryna take her home, I'm thinking 'bout a safe I was just booked, they had me biddin' in the pin house Couple months later, now I'm sittin in the penthouse Bitties fuckin' everywhere, you thinkin' it's a pimp house Engineer lookin' "When that boy gon' pull his pen out?" No pen, no pad, this shit so sad Sittin' in the Aston, this shit so fast This bitch so bad, I treat her so nice I came so fast, I had to go twice Rob me, no dice, that'll get your throat sliced Puffin' on the diesel gettin' higher than the coke price Homie, you a rat, you a talkin' to them folks type I'm more like the bull that could get 'em by the bow type Meek Milly [Verse 2: Big K.R.I.T.] Young Krizzle, yo, yo Do you mind if I murder this? Spit that southern slang over something so conservative Swingin' lane to lane, candy coated sippin' purple shit, mind frame, I herbal it Southern MC of my caliber, never heard of it Verbally, spit that gospel, prophecy in word of it No obstacle can topple my run, simply hurdle it Down to get shells over green, this ain't turtle shit Bolt like Usain, who game to get got I mastered the Shaolin styles of BIG and 2Pac Sweet and sour chicken while my partner workin' two woks Tryna to get that candy paint that's wetter than a dew drop Down to take a loss, like, give me whatever you got Scrapin' from the game, I'll be a king, just you watch Sippin' fine wine with breadsticks and goulash I'm far, far away from sardines and noodles You'd ball hard too if all your life you lived frugal Wishing on a star for J's, but got Pumas That was passed down to you 'cause your brother outgrew 'em Yeah, I talk to 'em [Verse 3: Fred The Godson] Yeah, uh, uh Live from the BX It's funny how I walk around with a .45 and a 3X Big chain get you smoked like I love Lucys Just me and my Cuban, I love Lucy, huh Finna age, look Omarion I'm center stage, more Olajuwon, huh I'm ridin' on whoever side you on Black and white, whatever race, relay the message, homie, with my baton Move pies like Papa John When we in the ride, be quiet when we pop on I'm being honest, I got that flame Like G-Unit, you ain't got no game All I got is a flow with it I make your sandwich, no hero, son, you gotta roll with it Leave in a O.J. when Nicole get it; It's a murder Look, I let the .38 and then the deuce beam him We'll put his face in a box like he uStreaming, huh Labels, I hear offers Had Jay-Z going crazy in the office Clark Kent endorsed it, Lenny S forced it Beans tried to take me to Bellevue, I lost it, ha Now rappers should all forfeit My swag is a ladder, I will never fall off it Those who can't hear, I appear to flow awkward Spitting out of this world, chewing on some Orbit You ain't a boss, so don't walk it or talk it You better off the bench, more Crawford, I'm nauseous I don't feel right deaded Put the M to your head, now you feel light-headed, ha This Halloween it was sick Painted myself brown, I'm the shit Fred