Meek Mill - Ham Music lyrics

uhh meek milly (yeah, yeah) philly in this b**h (yeah) yeah Leggo, uh they ain't f**ing with me, new orleans N-O old school b**h i let her blow me like nintendo black panamera me & maggo getting litto switching lanes in that thang 5 percet on the window i got 20 on my pocket, 30 on wrist, 50 on my neck keep it 100 in this b**h hey listen we don't do no talking, i'm just running up in your sh** and i was never in the walking, i'm just running up in your b**h i said my swagger on the fitted money in the limit real n***a every day, startin to the finish you should hear this rarri when i'm starting up the engine sounding like a motherf**er lion barking all up in it make a dollar every second, thousands on an hour 20 every day, i'm getting money in the power i was told never let the youngest get the powder but now these n******gs slipping like they f**ing in the shower, pause i really do this, i'm 62'n with ricky ross i'm getting to it, you n******gs losin sh**, i'm a boss yeah i took a loss, i was out in vegas me and gucci pouchie shooting at the table when i was broke, i used to have a dream before i had a dream best believe i had them fiends steady blowing up my celly, trying to get it any means n***a smootchie in the kitchen working up the triple beans breakin ounces off the birdie, money it was dirty and hammers they was filthy cause n******gs was trying to k** me and that's word to osama though, f** a b**h then (?) n******gs in they diss rap when no drama though leaning off the prometh sipping at your mama though rollie your bus down, call the perfect timing though tell my j**eler freeze me, just to change the climate hoe bottom of the mountain & meek milly got the climate on your chick my chick, my chick your chick, my swag fly sh**, your swag, norbit n******g you a weirdo, no match forfeit all these f**in bricks i'm thinkin we gonn need a forklift coolest on your stereo, i don't think they hear me though catch me in the hood, i'll be around it like a merri go used to sell them little o's i ain't talking cheerio's i'm talking about them golden grams and i don't mean no cereal murder on your record label n******g i'm a serial k**er plus i'm realer this is scarier than thriller in the villa countin scrilla with shawty she vanilla far as work i make that f**in bu*ter-fly like catepillars and my flow be on some other sh** hotter than a oven get i just got his girl's number he gonna need another b**h make her f** my other b**h then put her on a punishment she said she's n love with me and she don't know my government ha, shawty tripping where your luggage at broke n***as never see me cause i'm where the money at all i know is hustle hard like i got a hundred pack n***a get my j**els i'ma k** em i dont want em back wear it to your funeral be stuntin while they viewin you mama lookin over she like what the hell they did to you? clip full of hollow heads make me put a few in you yeah n***a i will ruin you. haa