| Meek ain’t countin' money no more
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| If it ain’t right, it ain’t right
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| Zip the bag up
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| Drop it right there
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| Ugh!
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| I got these niggas hatin' on me
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| But I don’t give a fuck, because they bitches waiting on me
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| I’m just counting all this money, and buying all these hammers
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| So when these niggas play, I let my shooters go bananas
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| Diamonds flashing like a camera, my whip sound like a monster
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| My bitch got on that shit, she got a million dollar sponsor
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| These niggas getting sick, somebody call a doctor
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| Cause all this blood drippin', 20 racks I Louboutin her
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| I go Dolce & Gabana, Gucci Louis Prada
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| Fly as hell in YSL boy I got a lot of 'em
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| Madre and cabanas, that’s where they probably find us
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| Jumpin' off the jet, like sayonara to ya honor
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| I spoil them bitches, I employ them niggas
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| Wipe my ass with the riches like it’s some toilet tissue
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| Fuck with a winner, minks in the winter
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| Philadelphia millionaire, Meek be that nigga
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| Yo niggas hatin', my niggas ballin'
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| Poppin' bands, countin' dollars, buyin' the Magnum bottles
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| My bitch is patient, yo bitch is boring
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| Fucked her that Friday night
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| We both woke up that Sunday morning
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| Young nigga, lotta cash, bad bitch, lotta ass
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| Lamborghini kinda fast, it got these haters kinda mad
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| Make me bring them sticks out, AK with the comma and
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| These niggas is kinda nice, which means they kinda ass
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| I be on all kinds of shit, boy I get all kinds of cash
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| Monday I’mma wear my J’s, Tuesday in my Prada bag
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| Wednesday I go Louboutin
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| They say «How you been?» |
| I say «Doing fine»
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| Bitch I ball hard like 2 LeBrons, I hit the booth, no suit and tie
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| I’m Superman, my bitch is super fly
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| I make a hater wanna kill hisself, suicide
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| A nigga play with me? |
| He know it’s do or die
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| Cause I got a big Mac, and that bitch be super sized
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| Rollin' with a hundred goons, boy I got a hundred jewels
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| 'Bout to fuck a hundred hoes, all them bitches coming soon
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| Tell 'em that I’m comin' now, tell 'em I’mma common coon
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| Boy my shit be super hot, I name my album summer June
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| I spoil them bitches, I employ them niggas
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| Wipe my ass with the riches like it’s some toilet tissue
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| Fuck with a winner, minks in the winter
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| Philadelphia millionaire, Meek be that nigga
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| Yo niggas hatin', my niggas ballin'
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| Poppin' bands, countin' dollars, buyin' the Magnum bottles
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| My bitch is patient, yo bitch is boring
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| Fucked her that Friday night
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| We both woke up that Sunday morning
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| Bugatti with Rozay, 'bout to meet Jose
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| He said that that workin', I was like «okay»
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| She say give me money, I was like «no way»
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| She got mad and text my phone
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| It ain’t no work if it ain’t no pay
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| I’m like be gone bitch, be gone bitch
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| I pop a perc, turn on my on switch
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| Them bitches ain’t on that, nigga cause they on this
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| You put 'em on money and I put 'em on dick, really though
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| I spoil them bitches, I employ them niggas
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| Wipe my ass with the riches like it’s some toilet tissue
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| Fuck with a winner, minks in the winter
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| Philadelphia millionaire, Meek be that nigga
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| Yo niggas hatin', my niggas ballin'
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| Poppin' bands, countin' dollars, buyin' the Magnum bottles
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| My bitch is patient, yo bitch is boring
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| Fucked her that Friday night
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| We both woke up that Sunday morning
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| Can I ask a favor?
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| Please embrace that Meek is just that boy now!
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| Why fight it?
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| You’re doing yourself a disservice |