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Babyface Ray - Meg The Stallion Lyrics



Babyface Ray - Meg The Stallion Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring G.T., Icewear Vezzo, Veeze ]

Adlib
Ayy

Weigh it up, break it down
F*ck the plug, take him down
Slime sittin' down in that town, he'll spin ya round
I been gettin' dressed every day, I heard they stakin' out (I heard they lookin')
At least I got good flicks if they shake us down (bitch)
I'ma be fresh as hell if the feds watchin'
We be in them streets, like a geek, we want every problem
I just spilled some lean on my sneaks, now they red bottoms
I ain't f*ckin' niggas hoes, I get the head out 'em (get the head off them bitches)
Yeah, I ain't no G, I ain't no Crip, I ain't no Blood
I'm f*ckin' wit' 'em, sellin' drugs though
Yeah, I'm from the east, on the six to be exact
But on the west, they show me love though

(Baow)
Gang, we gone shoot some' (bitch)
Bought a thousand oranges, get my hoop on (get my hoop on)
Nigga, open up that drakey, let it loose on 'em (baow, baow, baow)
Ayy, gold Sky-Dweller like a crouton (woo)
I keep sellin' niggas cut and they keep comin' back (they do)
The type of nigga, if he up, I probably run his strap (he a pussy)
Rose Prezi and this Cuban, that's a hunnid racks (this bitch dancin')
I got bad habits with this ratchet, always double back (I stop records)
Bitch, I'm already rich (drank god)
He ain't comin' forty-one, he got a petty wrist
I gotta step on it again, that's how that fetty hit (skrrt)
I just went to Gary, spent two-hunnid, bitch, I'm heavy wit' it (what)
Get a bag and buss it down, just tryna feed the streets (on God)
Nigga, I was ballin' back when we was GMB (on God)
Ayy, crib so big, this bitch a BNB (yeah)
Rose yacht master, forty-two, bitch, like I'm CMG

Ayy, f*cked up Barney's 'til they shut the doors on it (for real)
Copped a plain, got it sprayed, R.I.P. my nigga Soda (yeah)
Cop a bag from L.A., changed the area code on it
Glock stuffed with a .50, I'm like, "Show me my opponent" (baow)
New Prezi, pour some drink just so I can spill it on him
Bro got Audemars plain but he spent a Benz on it
He in the M club, we some bears, you a cub
You could throw me in the jungle, I'll come out it minked up (yeah)
Blow money, find a town then we sittin' down (sittin' down)
I'll have my fiend go up top for a quarter ounce
This the third time they spinned around, pack it up and bounce
Out the way, a hundred-eighty days, you gon' make it out

I can spend five thousand, tell the goons, "Gone solve my problems"
You was just gettin' allowance, pump yo' breaks, nigga, pay some homage (haha)
We got whatever you coppin', brown squares but it ain't chocolate (yeah)
Don't look for the shit I'm rockin', it's hard to find just like Bin Laden (yeah)
Look in my bag, all fifties, twenties, it look like Cosmo and Wanda
When I mix the food, nigga, you can't watch me, this ain't Benihana (skrrt)
If I find out nigga hatin' on gang, f*ck his baby mama (yeah)
I told that nigga I'm talkin' pape', he tried to change the topic
She said why I'm wearin' a bag? The dog shit can't even fit in my pocket (yeah)
If rap don't work, I'ma be in the feds, eatin' steak and lobster (no cap)
I can take your girl, make it swell, like I switched her diet (yeah)
Look in my cup, bitch so thick, look like Meg Thee Stallion (ugh)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Adlib
Ayy

Weigh it up, break it down
F*ck the plug, take him down
Slime sittin' down in that town, he'll spin ya round
I been gettin' dressed every day, I heard they stakin' out (I heard they lookin')
At least I got good flicks if they shake us down (bitch)
I'ma be fresh as hell if the feds watchin'
We be in them streets, like a geek, we want every problem
I just spilled some lean on my sneaks, now they red bottoms
I ain't f*ckin' niggas hoes, I get the head out 'em (get the head off them bitches)
Yeah, I ain't no G, I ain't no Crip, I ain't no Blood
I'm f*ckin' wit' 'em, sellin' drugs though
Yeah, I'm from the east, on the six to be exact
But on the west, they show me love though

(Baow)
Gang, we gone shoot some' (bitch)
Bought a thousand oranges, get my hoop on (get my hoop on)
Nigga, open up that drakey, let it loose on 'em (baow, baow, baow)
Ayy, gold Sky-Dweller like a crouton (woo)
I keep sellin' niggas cut and they keep comin' back (they do)
The type of nigga, if he up, I probably run his strap (he a pussy)
Rose Prezi and this Cuban, that's a hunnid racks (this bitch dancin')
I got bad habits with this ratchet, always double back (I stop records)
Bitch, I'm already rich (drank god)
He ain't comin' forty-one, he got a petty wrist
I gotta step on it again, that's how that fetty hit (skrrt)
I just went to Gary, spent two-hunnid, bitch, I'm heavy wit' it (what)
Get a bag and buss it down, just tryna feed the streets (on God)
Nigga, I was ballin' back when we was GMB (on God)
Ayy, crib so big, this bitch a BNB (yeah)
Rose yacht master, forty-two, bitch, like I'm CMG

Ayy, f*cked up Barney's 'til they shut the doors on it (for real)
Copped a plain, got it sprayed, R.I.P. my nigga Soda (yeah)
Cop a bag from L.A., changed the area code on it
Glock stuffed with a .50, I'm like, "Show me my opponent" (baow)
New Prezi, pour some drink just so I can spill it on him
Bro got Audemars plain but he spent a Benz on it
He in the M club, we some bears, you a cub
You could throw me in the jungle, I'll come out it minked up (yeah)
Blow money, find a town then we sittin' down (sittin' down)
I'll have my fiend go up top for a quarter ounce
This the third time they spinned around, pack it up and bounce
Out the way, a hundred-eighty days, you gon' make it out

I can spend five thousand, tell the goons, "Gone solve my problems"
You was just gettin' allowance, pump yo' breaks, nigga, pay some homage (haha)
We got whatever you coppin', brown squares but it ain't chocolate (yeah)
Don't look for the shit I'm rockin', it's hard to find just like Bin Laden (yeah)
Look in my bag, all fifties, twenties, it look like Cosmo and Wanda
When I mix the food, nigga, you can't watch me, this ain't Benihana (skrrt)
If I find out nigga hatin' on gang, f*ck his baby mama (yeah)
I told that nigga I'm talkin' pape', he tried to change the topic
She said why I'm wearin' a bag? The dog shit can't even fit in my pocket (yeah)
If rap don't work, I'ma be in the feds, eatin' steak and lobster (no cap)
I can take your girl, make it swell, like I switched her diet (yeah)
Look in my cup, bitch so thick, look like Meg Thee Stallion (ugh)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Marcellus Register, Chivez Smith, Gary Alan Thomas, Karon Vantrees
Copyright: Lyrics © INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY COLLECTIONS, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Songtrust Ave

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