Trap Vibe Lyrics Meek Mill
Meek Mill - Trap Vibe SongtextTurn me up some Cruz
I told Barcelini if them niggas hatin' they gon' suffer
I'm goin' up a hundred every day
You know how I play!
Skinny nigga in the Benz truck
Swingin' through like a nunchuck
Summertime bring them 30s out
Tell Coon put the sticks up
Wait... hold up, hold up
How can niggas go against us?
Cold pussies wouldn't even shoot us
See us roll on 'em like a lint brush
Phil movin' out them bandos
We ain't leavin' 'til the brick's done
Couple hundred, we gon' vac seal 'em
Just to ride with it like a Brinks truck
Wait, wait, Louboutins and the wrist bust
Bitch you claiming I done been fuck
You ain't even gotta trip, bruh
In the trenches in the Maybach
Fuck I even got the tint for?
I'm the only nigga got one
Who the fuck I gotta hide from?
Barcelini ridin' shotgun
Shooters with him, never mind nigga
Young niggas on Sigel Street
Word to Mack, they'll rock somethin'
North side of Philly my side of town
Bulletproof whip when I ride around
Niggas talk shit when I'm not around
Wouldn't tell you that we run the city
But we movin', gotta say we joggin' now
Hit the city and we runnin' down
Ain't no runnin' now, niggas out of bounds
Plug this, plug that
Niggas rappin', they ain't never sold nothin'
Hold this hold that
I ain't lettin' these niggas hold nothin'
Summertime, niggas coppin' foreign whips
You can tell the load comin'
Put my name on the flyer
All the trappers, all the bad hoes comin'
Niggas dickridin' other niggas, that's a trend now
I'm still rockin' with the same Chasers I've been 'round
Got so much work out we might slim down
I'm so poppin' all my haters turn friends now
Diamonds dancin' like Mike Jackson
Shit shining like Mike's jacket
Moonwalkin' in a Rolls Royce
Through the rearview, see my life backwards
Percocets, popped two 10s on a 20, nigga now I ain't active
So wavy, nigga I ain't rappin'
Can't tell me that I ain't swaggin', no way
This summer right here, nigga
We goin' up
Litted, it's litted
I'm with broads in Atlanta
Bunch of drugs and the Fanta
Bunch of guns in the Phantom
Spendin' money like a scammer
My young niggas in the kitchen whippin'
Whippin', livin' large at the hammer
Duckin' law and the scammers
Free my dawgs out the slammer
Black car, panther
Shorty call, never answer
20 foreigns in the mansion
Diamonds on me and they dancin'
I don't really understand rappers
Niggas jumpin' on bandwagons
All these bands got my pants saggin'
63s on the Benz wagon
62s on the Maybach
Bitch I'm comin' for the payback
62s in the pot, nigga
Tryna whip it up and bring it way back
You in the club and spending your cop money
All on the 'Gram actin' like that you got money
We lookin' at you like you need to stop money
You killin' yourself with that lil' half a block money
I got that go to the mall and get what I want paper
You the type hopin' I fall, that's what you want, hater
'Member back when I was broke? I only had one hater
These suckers gon' hate you no matter you broke or you own paper
Hundred bands, added up
We gettin' money, they mad at us
At the jeweler buyin' more Rollies
I don't think these niggas man enough
Fuck them niggas, shit we stuntin' on 'em
Niggas, they ain't got nothin' on us
Niggas that we never fuck with
Run and tellin' people that we fronted on 'em
Nigga made me put a hundred on you
Do you dirty, put the drummer on you
Shots never stoppin', pop, pop, pop, pop
We'll run up on you
Dead bodies, homicide
Head shot, mama cry
Cops lookin', got an alibi
Lawyer money, nigga, buyin' time
Hold! They hit my nigga Chino in his head
Hold! Took him to LIV my nigga ain't dead
No! Ball in Miami on Sunday, we did
Ho! Blowin' the racks, we at Vanity Grand
All black Panamera
White bitch named Samantha
White and black, she a panda
White and black, she a panda
Whippin' the... rock with the...
I should have just run with the rest...
Teile diesen Songtext
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Don't Call Me up
Walk Me Home