Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Let it Burn, artist - Meek Mill.
Date of issue: 01.09.2012
Song language: English
Let it Burn |
Yeah, good, MMG n***a |
Chain all VS, |
I ain’t with the BS. |
Catch me in the city riding hard through the BX. |
Skinny n***a, but I do it large like a 3X. |
The last n***a that tried to do me wrong, |
Uhm he checked. |
Right back to that money slinging O’s in PJ. |
I’m prolly catching milage while the pilot steady preject. |
Because we next and flex like… |
Like 90PX, working all night, |
No breaks or recess Vroom Vroom. |
Yeah, I know my car sound like a T-Rex, |
Bitch i’m 23 years old and I ain’t riding in a Prius. |
My cousin finished school, |
Can’t believe he graduated. |
I threw him 20 thousand dollars, |
Told his ass congratulations. |
Cause me, I wasn’t made for that s**t. |
But I could prolly hire him and who all paid for his s**t. |
And to all the hoes that was dissing, |
I prayed to God that you see me. |
I’m on the yacht getting hella high, |
Smoking good, that seaweed |
Bad b***h and her chacha, |
Grabbing on her chee chees. |
Million dollars bills on my email. |
You mad ass hell you ain’t cc’d |
Chain all VS, |
B***h you know it’s BS. |
Boy I run my city |
End of story, n***a PS. |
All white maybach, |
Green Bay they pack. |
Y’all n***as was slackin. |
Yeah, but i’m all nice new track. |
And they say life’s a game of chess |
You can play checkers all on my jacket, |
Because it Donny Ya and rhymes away on all you pig rappers. |
I say yeah n***a, I murder that. |
Pen em ear and serve em back. |
N***as say they want beef, |
Well well the f**ks my burgers at. |
I got white, was serving that. |
I been to jail, ain’t going back. |
I alley-ooped your b***h off that backboard. |
She throw it back, |
I slammed off in the p***y. |
Black Griffin’s your hoe n***a. |
Maybach with Ricky Ross, my chain rock like I know Jigga. |
That’s cause I do hoe, |
Shout out to my new hoe. |
That p***y pink like Nuvo. |
And I dogged that, Khujo. |
N***as want talk, |
What they gone say. |
I hit the pedal til that mutha f***a break. |
Freaky b***hes love the money I make, |
And to live like this |
You mutha f***as gotta pay. |
So let that s**t burn, |
Let that s**t burn, |
Let that s**t burn, |
Let that s**t burn. |
Gasoline. |
The roof on fire, i’m only gettin’higher. |
50 racks all in my pocket, all the bottles |
I’ma let that s**t burn |
B***h, I had one shot of Na blunt. |
Ridin’til the wheels fell off and they tore it. |
I got green on top of green |
Diamonds lookin’like I grew it. |
D-Town, the hood behind me like a King Cobra |
Burn, b***h. |
I let it burn b***h. |
My money straighter than a mother f***in'perm bitch. |
No navigation, you can see that is my turn s**t. |
Shorty give me all that brain, |
And still ain’t never learn s**t. |
Oh that;s your girl, |
Damn n***a you ain’t learn s**t. |
She naked in my studio, |
I’m on that Howard Stern s**t. |
Yep, I swear that Mack 10 is barbell. |
Finally famous, the cartel. |
Hit your girl in my whip and now that p***y got that new car smell |
Same s**t, different day. |
I ain’t broke no more, |
It’s a different day. |
Don’t turn me down, I got s**t to say |
My purp strong like it’s lifting weights. |
It Sean Don, sippin’Chandon. |
I got a bad b***h with them pom poms. |
My rolly don’t tick tock, |
You s**t sound like a time bomb. |
BOOOM… |
Little b***h. |
N***as want talk, |
What they gone say. |
I hit the pedal til that mutha f***a break. |
Freaky b***hes love the money I make. |
And to live like this you mutha f***kas gotta pay, so let that s**t burn. |
Let that s**t burn, |
Let that s**t burn, |
Let that s**t burn. |
Gasoline. |
The roof on fire, |
I’m only gettin’higher. |
50 racks all in my pocket, all the bottles. |
I’ma let that s**t burn |