[Intro: Meek Mill]
Yo, Nick Papz, make it slap
Yeah (Brrt)
You gotta turn me up in the headphones some more, a lil' bit more
Just a teeny bit
Turn me up, Cruz
It's so many motherfuckin' hundreds, you gotta make a part two
[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
I'm not in competition with my homies
I'm whippin' the competition and the Rollie
I knew my opposition never knew me
They wouldn't be opposition if they know me
I made a proposition to my hitters
I told them to knock 'em down if he owe me
I just be slidin' 'round, hittin' the building
We movin' with Glock, pounds, and them .40s
Them niggas got shot down, we was whorin'
My homie a opp now, so we on him
I was like sixteen with the MAC on me
Deep in the field like it's Pop Warner
Weathered the shit, seen niggas cracked on me
When it got real, tried to slide on him
I made some M's, split the guys on it
We keepin' it real, niggas not
And my homie a savage, got put in a casket, and I'm mad at him 'cause he died on us
Just left his viewing and I told his momma, every time that she cry, "We gon' slide on 'em"
I look you niggas right dead in the eye and I ain't surprised you ain't ride for us
How would you feel if you bust some mill' with some niggas and they switch the side on you?
How would you feel?
When you so lit that you can't tell if the love real
If I can't tell you nothin', I'll tell you how a thug feel
And you ain't rich, nigga, your stash can't pay my drug bill
Pussy (Pussy)
Nigga, this expensive pain, pullin' an expensive Range
Yo, Nick Papz, make it slap
Yeah (Brrt)
You gotta turn me up in the headphones some more, a lil' bit more
Just a teeny bit
Turn me up, Cruz
It's so many motherfuckin' hundreds, you gotta make a part two
[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
I'm not in competition with my homies
I'm whippin' the competition and the Rollie
I knew my opposition never knew me
They wouldn't be opposition if they know me
I made a proposition to my hitters
I told them to knock 'em down if he owe me
I just be slidin' 'round, hittin' the building
We movin' with Glock, pounds, and them .40s
Them niggas got shot down, we was whorin'
My homie a opp now, so we on him
I was like sixteen with the MAC on me
Deep in the field like it's Pop Warner
Weathered the shit, seen niggas cracked on me
When it got real, tried to slide on him
I made some M's, split the guys on it
We keepin' it real, niggas not
And my homie a savage, got put in a casket, and I'm mad at him 'cause he died on us
Just left his viewing and I told his momma, every time that she cry, "We gon' slide on 'em"
I look you niggas right dead in the eye and I ain't surprised you ain't ride for us
How would you feel if you bust some mill' with some niggas and they switch the side on you?
How would you feel?
When you so lit that you can't tell if the love real
If I can't tell you nothin', I'll tell you how a thug feel
And you ain't rich, nigga, your stash can't pay my drug bill
Pussy (Pussy)
Nigga, this expensive pain, pullin' an expensive Range
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