Million Dollar Trap Rick Ross & Meek Mill
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Million Dollar Trap" by Rick Ross & Meek Mill. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro : Meek Mill & Future]
Back drawin' again
ATL Jacob, he a fuckin' millionnaire
[Chorus: Meek Mill]
Party at the penthouse
Tell them hoes, "If you ain't fuckin', y'all gotta get out"
Yeah
Ownership, this ain't no rent out
We ain't flashin' no guns
These niggas gon' die, we pull that stick out
[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
I ain't tryna throw no ones, tryin' to take a bitch home, and pay her rent out
Nigga ain't really nobody, you turn into a body if I put a hit out
Twin bad bitches in a lobby waitin' for me, I gotta slip out
Heavenly shit on my body, I'm like a virgin who ain't been out
Godly
Shorty had surprised me, she said she wanted molly
I keep on swipin' this black card, they keep on checkin' my ID
Most these niggas, they act hard, 'til shit turn to a robbery
Got real shooters in my backyard and rain things like Kyrie, okay
One of my hoes wanted bread for some water, I sent her to Bali
My hood lil' bitch ain't never seen nothin', get happy when we go to Hibachis
Tracker on the car, I move so quick, so fast they can't even find me
Back on your door, got Southside henchmen that's with me, get real, real slimey
Huh, I'ma give these niggas somethin' they can talk about, okay
My young nigga put on 'levens just to walk 'em down, okay
Once you say it's up, it's nothin' we can talk about, no way
If he hate too much, or pose a threat, I tell my young boys, "Spray"
Back drawin' again
ATL Jacob, he a fuckin' millionnaire
[Chorus: Meek Mill]
Party at the penthouse
Tell them hoes, "If you ain't fuckin', y'all gotta get out"
Yeah
Ownership, this ain't no rent out
We ain't flashin' no guns
These niggas gon' die, we pull that stick out
[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
I ain't tryna throw no ones, tryin' to take a bitch home, and pay her rent out
Nigga ain't really nobody, you turn into a body if I put a hit out
Twin bad bitches in a lobby waitin' for me, I gotta slip out
Heavenly shit on my body, I'm like a virgin who ain't been out
Godly
Shorty had surprised me, she said she wanted molly
I keep on swipin' this black card, they keep on checkin' my ID
Most these niggas, they act hard, 'til shit turn to a robbery
Got real shooters in my backyard and rain things like Kyrie, okay
One of my hoes wanted bread for some water, I sent her to Bali
My hood lil' bitch ain't never seen nothin', get happy when we go to Hibachis
Tracker on the car, I move so quick, so fast they can't even find me
Back on your door, got Southside henchmen that's with me, get real, real slimey
Huh, I'ma give these niggas somethin' they can talk about, okay
My young nigga put on 'levens just to walk 'em down, okay
Once you say it's up, it's nothin' we can talk about, no way
If he hate too much, or pose a threat, I tell my young boys, "Spray"
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