Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chiraq, artist - Meek Mill. Date of issue: 05.06.2015
Song language: English
Chiraq |
| You fuck around get smoked |
| You fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around, get smoked, nigga |
| You fuck around get smoked |
| Uh, niggas know the rules in my hood, if you touch me, you get murked |
| We ain’t with that back and forth, it ain’t no rap, we hittin' first |
| G-5, we be at LIV by Sunday when you in the Church |
| Momma stressing, selling dinner platers, tryna get your casket, and get ya |
| hearse |
| Last nigga that slid on us, got dropped on it, he told on us |
| Every nigga you see with me got ice on 'em, bank rolls on us |
| Naw, nigga no 1 on 1's we don’t fight fair, we just roll on 'em |
| V-S stones and cuban links, all that ice wear with that gold on 'em |
| We ain’t swinging no flag, nigga |
| We ain’t need no pass, nigga |
| Glock 40 with a 30 clip and laser on it, play tag with us |
| Everybody wanna talk bricks 'till them feds, swoop in and grab niggas |
| Dream chasers got into something, we don’t never bleak cause we trash niggas |
| I don’t know if y’all heard about what my homie do with that 30 out |
| Deen Buck still in the cut and stay fittin' to let Ernie out |
| I ain’t even gotta say nothin' 'bout that other homie that you heard about |
| Cause if he heard about that you run your mouth |
| He come to your house and start swervin' out |
| Catch me in Y-C, out Shadyville, I’m in the tank |
| Only time its mayhem when I’m in the booth or I’m in the bank |
| Summertime in La Marina with Dominicans going in the paint |
| Pullin' up screamin' Dimelo catch you in Brooklyn, get pita rolled pussy! |
| (Yeah, Meek what up? Bang! |
| Oh, man in Chiraq!) |
| Niggas say me and Sosa beefin' but we both eatin', but only one keep it |
| Told Law he take 15 years, every crime we did we gon Keep It Secret |
| Can’t Tweet Teyana corporate nigga lookin, so what I’m on I gotta Keep It Secret |
| That face no Stevie no Mimi, I promise Teyana that I won’t leak it |
| Gripped the 30 just cashed out, if you caught stripping, then you assed out |
| I’m the same nigga that my city asked about while you in the cut steady buying |
| clout |
| Fuck the judge, let 9 out, hairpin trigger, let 9 out |
| Four birds in the trap like |
| 4 wings at Harold’s with fries covered in mild sauce |
| Everytime a nigga rap beef, get clapped up in a couple weeks |
| IG comments and a couple tweets, location on we can go and meet |
| Headshot, I’m outta town, I’m in Killadelphia with my nigga Meek |
| Pop a wheelie in N-Y-C I got the 30 on with my nigga, Flee |
| Heard Tyga sneak dissing on me, tell them thot bitches I’m not right |
| Tyga only got one name but that nigga ain’t got one stripe |
| He backpack, so easy to get the nigga shit snatched |
| Ask Marly Marl to get his shit back |
| In Chiraq, don’t come here |
| You ain’t from here? |
| Don’t come here! |
| Cause shorty snipin', bag on him if he don’t like this |
| No Young Chop, that .40 bangs, just like him |
| 30 punch like Tyson |
| Back to the rap flow, hot shit |
| Fuck I gotta rap for, got bricks |
| Every city I go, got sticks |
| Pockets Wells Fargo, no bricks |
| Say I’m on top now, no shit |
| You can never say I, wife shit |
| I don’t even like shit |
| I just pipe shit |
| One night shit |
| LA with killas and thuggers |
| New York SlowBucks them my brothers |
| A-T-L with Migos and Young Thugger |
| We gonna shoot up in public |
| And they gotta urge to take |
| Chiraq, look at the murder rate |
| 500 dead bodies, better go and get money 'fore you be on first 48 |
| You wear red bottoms and Phillip Lim |
| Everybody trynna get a hold of him |
| Bad bitches, they be in Benz |
| I knock ‘em down like bowling pins |
| Feds snatch me, I don’t know them |
| Real nigga, on 4nem |
| Young Jefe, the new Soulja Slim |
| Hangin' out the tank with Slow and them |
| Come take a trip to D. C |
| Hear a lot of Me and see GG |
| I’m the big dog |
| I’m ringing off |
| Like Mambo Sauce on a 3 Piece |
| «Glizzy, Why you ain’t D.C.?» |
| «Who said I ain’t D.C.?» |
| Fuck ya bitch to my CD |
| She lemme record her like Mimi |
| A nigga playin', it’s lights out |
| Oo, Shine got me iced out |
| Stay low, cause the mice out |
| You only get fly when the Mikes out |
| Wait till it get nice out |
| Tell Chino bring the bikes out |
| Got 50 guns in my trap house |
| You better off fucking with the White House |
| I’m the realest youngin' in the fucking world |
| I got plenty money, I got plenty girls |
| Got the Villa for the week, got fifteen freaks |
| And they all wanna go for a fucking swirl |
| Had her come to us with the marble peals |
| Glock 23, treat her like my girl |
| 357, that bitch just twirl |
| Make him catch our shit like Fitzgerald |