Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Niggas in Paris , by - Meek Mill. Song from the album The Freestyles, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 12.08.2012
Record label: Believe
Song language: English
Niggas in Paris |
| Ball so hard, muthaf-ckas wanna fine me |
| These niggas can’t find me |
| Cause I’m probably in the air |
| Cuttin' through the clouds in a Lear G-5′in |
| Bitch nigga, we mobbin' |
| Rich nigga, we buyin', any bitch we wanna |
| And it go 'room when I hit that corner in a batmobile |
| Trap for real, bullets hit ya head |
| Make ya head go still |
| Niggas always ask why you rap so real |
| Cause I be in the trap sellin' crack pills? |
| Got them racks on I’ll, money so sick |
| I don’t give a fuck who you run and go get |
| Ross with a boat cause I wanna go fish |
| With his all yellow rolli got these niggas so pissed |
| Shittin' on these niggas where my toilet |
| Jordan’s, you ain’t never seen 'em cause I’m ballin' |
| Board as shit, I spent be so retarded |
| Cause I don’t even write |
| I’m just recording |
| Got an AP, Rolex, Cartier to the Hublot |
| I ain’t even have to hit the bank |
| I bought this shit from a few shows |
| With a new hoe in my view so… beautiful, I see a few hoes |
| Anchorman, that forecast |
| I say it’s coming and they move the snow |
| Ha, got a young bitch look like Nicki tho (Nicki tho) |
| I said could ya keep a secret just like Vicki tho |
| I let her sip Ciroc and hit the sticky tho |
| Told her she can kiss my neck but just don’t give me no hickies ho |
| Cause my baby momma be trippin' |
| All these ones I be whippin' |
| All this paper I be gettin' |
| I be dunkin on 'em: Blake Griffin |
| Nigga, I got now, you got no! |
| No W’s for the loser’s tho |
| All this ice like jewelry show |
| Riding so slow like a funeral |
| Look at my neck, take a look at my wrist |
| Look at my pockets, take a look at my bitch |
| Let me take 'em way back |
| Finna like '86, all eyes on me |
| When I step up in the club |
| I feelin' like Rich |
| Porter that is, I slaughter that bitch |
| Don’t touch that work, I order that shit |
| I wouldn’t give a damn, what corner that is |
| If they cop that work, I goin' at that bitch |
| With' a whole sack, no rap, weed, pills, dope, crack |
| Droppin' right on 'em like hold that |
| Feds takin' pictures like Kodak |
| Tappin' my phone, watching my home |
| They watchin' me and I’m watching the throne? |
| See suckin' me and I’m watching the dome |
| Perc in my system and I’m in the zone, yeah, I’m gettin' gone |
| Phantom, Ghost, like 'em, chase 'em, Pacman |
| All this money on my mind, you see it on my catscan |
| Nigga |