| I’ve been in my cell for a week straight
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| Locked down 24, no more Philip’s Steak
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| Damn, shit’s so real it seems fake
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| Damn, let me take 'em to the green gate
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| When we was sellin' white girl
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| Audemar shinin' like it need a light bill
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| These niggas dick ride like they don’t even like girls
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| A hundred thousand for the jet, yeah that’s the flight bill
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| Damn, cost four bricks to go to the LIV nigga
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| Whole squad on some shit, that’s how we live nigga
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| Twenty-five bad bitches what we did nigga
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| That’s fifty different Louboutins bleedin' red nigga
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| Whew, I ain’t blood and I ain’t crippin' neither
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| On the phone with the plug talkin' Justin Bieber
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| I made a milly last week and I ain’t touch it neither
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| Straight cash tryna give 'em straight gas
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| Catch you out in Brooklyn, get your chain tookin'
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| My Philly boys’ll creep up on you when you ain’t lookin'
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| With your lil memes, I be with the real queen
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| Screamin' free the real Preme, we be doin' real things
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| Pull up with a bad bitch, whippin' somethin' real mean
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| Marchin' all these fuckin' drums on me like a drill team
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| I be with my young niggas, all they know is kill things
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| Don’t make me make a real scene, uh
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| See an OVO chain, probably take that shit
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| Said dreamin' wasn’t enough, we had to chase that shit
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| You ain’t write it' nigga, we caught ya, can’t erase that shit
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| And you claimin' you HOV now? |
| Why you state that shit?
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| Man I hate that shit, niggas be talkin' out they face
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| But soon as you body somethin' they be singin' like they Drake
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| Wait, niggas dancin' like they fruitcakes
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| Hotline Bling don’t get no bing up in this new Wraith
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| Pull up on the plug, swap that bag with the suitcase
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| DC4 on the way, that’s nigga’s due date
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| Robbed you in your city and you told
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| Tory from the 6, you hatin' on him, Lord knows
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| Culture vulture, now it’s time to pay the tolls
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| Soft as the lacrosse team, boy that’s word to HOV
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| No reply, word to God I’m on the floor still
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| Me and Nicki watchin' the Sixers, I’m closin' more deals
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| Dreamchasers' double MG, we got the door sealed
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| Roc Nation, Atlantic Records, I’m on my fourth deal
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| When I met you, you was on my dick
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| Asked me to hold the DC chain, now you on some shit
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| Omelly told me get it back cause he’s like «boy's a bitch»
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| And I’m like, let him get it took cause we gon' charge 'em trips
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| Fuckboy, huh charge you triple the way this real nigga stamp. |
| Chasers, ahh.
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| Location: Philly; |
| Mood: Glock with 30; |
| Status: triple OG, never been
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| disrespected without retaliation, chump
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| I’ve been in the hood for like a year straight
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| Sippin' dirty, it be hard for me to stand straight
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| Damn, it’s time to cut the dead weight
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| I’m tryna turn my CLS into a red Wraith
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| When I was sellin' hard crack you was scared straight
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| I dropped 9 and bought the Rollie with the red face
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| Meek the one that got the mil, the one that got the deal
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| I’m still lampin' with the shooters and they poppin' pills
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| These niggas like to rap diss they get popped for real
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| It’s time to son these pussy rappers, I’m their pop for real
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| I’m the type to fuck your mom cause she’s a thot for real
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| And I ain’t got one, my pump playin' shotgun
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| Quarterback that Glock, Cam Newton, and you catch a hot one
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| And for the fam I’ll keep shootin' until the cops come
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| Reload, double back, hold up cuz, I got one
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| Official only respect official and you are not one
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| No, we are not them, we be on some other shit
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| Deep in them trenches, duckin' narcotics and the government
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| Tracin' the dollar, flippin' that product, tryna double shit
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| Chewing like it’s double mint
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| Man, who you niggas fuckin' with?
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| Hah, hey Meek Mill man, I’ma start running down on these niggas too.
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| Real rap, these niggas soft and they frauds, check DC record nigga,
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| we flawless. |
| Any nigga stepped up to the fuckin' plate got rolled over.
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| I ain’t just talkin' to be talkin', nigga, check the resume. |
| How many times we
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| got to fuck the city up for you niggas to pay homage. |
| Fuck you niggas talking
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| bout nigga? |
| Slide through 20 deep, I’m talkin' bout 7 Rolls Royces, 3 Maybachs,
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| 20 Rollies, 30 Cubans, 25 bad bitches, 25 Chanel bags, 6 Caddie trucks,
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| jumbo jets. |
| Stop playin' nigga, we came from nothin' |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Gettin To The Money Ft. Omelly & Oschino , by - Meek Mill. Song from the album Flamers 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп