Lyrics Who What When (Feat. T.I.) - Meek Mill

Who What When (Feat. T.I.)

If they got a problem, tell em call me, we can settle that
Matter fact, you ain’t gotta tell em, I’ll tell em that (I'll tell em)
And if these niggas' hiding, we gon' slide up where they motha' at
Ak-47 with the double strap
Have your sister at the funeral, bring my brother back
Just for fucking with the wrong one
Ya, I got a short temper, but I got a long gun
Call the mac the chicken wing cause it got its own drum
I know these niggas' sick of me cause I done had a long run
Countin' all this money (money) fucking all these hoes (hoes)
They was looking at me funny cause I pulled up in the rose (rose)
Y’all good for talkin' on Twitter (Twitter)
We good for sparkin' on niggas' (sparkin')
Broad day walk up on a niggas'
Had a homicide unit put the chalk up on niggas'
Hey you gon' do somethin' to who, what, when
You say you want it with who, what, when
Them shots is comin' at who, what, when
You was sayin' that to who, what, when fuck nigga
You better get that fuck shit off ya mind
Cause Imma up that strap, you crossed the line
Make examples out you niggas' start spreadin' the news
When I shoot you gon' enjoy upside your head with them twos
You want to find me, you can find me at the top of the list
Said if they ever let me in, I wouldn’t stop it for shit
You see that motivation, make you say I’m cocky as shit
Whatever, fuck it, tell em suck a hippopotamus dick
Nowadays, play how could I possibly get I’m getting paid
Get out the Maybach and go hop in the jet
Know they hat in on the rise and the cheddar I spend
And the fact that I’m looking' fly in whatever I’m in
Most of you big niggas' soft like the Michelin man
When you see a lil nigga standing with a pistol in hand
Kept me off stage rappin with my dick in my hand
Tryna distinguish the difference between a bitch and a fan
I done been broke once homie, never again
Cause I sold dope once and I’ll sell it again
First week 500, I’ll sell it again
Tell the mice make way and let Elvis in
I’m ballin' half around, half a jet, nigga pound for pound
Only time we showin' up, the shut this mothafucka down
Ridin' round in the Kia, no spare tires
Chopper round shots fired, nigga, flat lines
Zip came to it and keep the powder savoral
Drive by’s on dirt bike with Meek Milli O
Crow rock shells, I bleach em and watch em fade away
And leave a nigga block wetter than a rainy day
What’s beef?
Beef is when you scared to leave the crib
Guzzi and he inspired for some of the dolla mill
I’m worth mills and I beat a nigga ass still
Ya’ll niggas get wasted I ain’t talkin' spilled beers
School of hard knocks, I’m a hate a cheetah
One ya a dick sucka get your head up with the nina
And YM still strapped snookin with the cleava
Ya best bet to run the other way when I see ya