French Montana - My Life lyrics

[Intro: Meek Mill] The world is yours and everything in it You gonna go get it? [Verse 1: Meek Mill] Mama couldn't save me, daddy dead so he couldn't raise me I'm still tripping off them hoes that played me Same b**hes fronting on me when I had my baby It's crazy, and n***as say they made me Taking credit from my mama, sh** amaze me How n***as talking down when I'm not around But every time I'm in the building, schhh, not a sound I line my haters up and clap them down That choppa have n***a dancing like he Bobby Brown I'm well-respected in my city, even out of town And don't ever tuck my chain n***a, how that sound? How that look? We don't live by the book, we just live by the code A lot of n***as got exposed when feds came through They was dropping names too n***as say I changed up but I'm with the same crew I was always told to get the money and remain you Never let these p**y n***as tell you what you can't do Every time they said that I left, that was when I came through Range new, .38 special when the flame blew Just in case I gotta flame you What a feeling when them people tryna frame you Lock you in a cell when detain you Rather die before I go out working like I'm Django I'm gone... [Hook: French Montana] n***as want me dead everyday that I wake up f** you talking ‘bout, you ain't talking paper And here's another one, here's another one Streets watching A new b**h, a new car Her a** soft, I go hard And here's another one, here's another one Streets watching [Verse 2: Meek Mill] If I f** her, I'm brainless She f** me, she might get famous She might get a chance to ride jet and drive Ranges Money'll have your closest friends turning into strangers That's dangerous, n***as shoot and they'll aim at us Shooting in the sky, you tryna hit the angels up n***as tripping like y'all dipping off angel dust And all these cubans 'round my neck getting tangled up I only f** with bad b**hes that be trained to f** Five n***as, ten b**hes run a train on us Looking at these rap n***as they all lame as f** Mini skirts, skinny jeans with the strangest cuts I stick to the script, switch like stick on the shift Early mornings in the kitchen like I'm whippin' the grits n***a, I could score your b**h with a flick of the wrist Swear that Audemar flash light like I'm flicking a pic [Hook]