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Meek Mill - Me (FWM) Lyrics



Meek Mill - Me (FWM) Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring A$AP Ferg ]

F*ckin' with me, niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (niggas ain't f*ckin'-)
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me, you niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
Woah, woah (woah, woah)
Woah, woah (woah, woah)
Woah, woah, woah, woah
Drop (yeah)

Flew her out on the first flight
Got that pussy the first night
Niggas say it's war, then it's on sight, gang, gang (brrt)
Walk in this bitch with all this ice
I could've came through in a 'Rari but hit the hood on my dirt bike, yeah (man)
Countin' these bands up, been f*ckin' my hands up (f*ck it up)
I was in Paris, I pay for the drill, hit your mans up (brrt)
Big Glock .40 on the hipline, hold my pants up (hold it up)
She was confused, like, "How you the G.O.A.T. in a Lamb' truck? (She like, "What?")
F*ckin' this tall bitch from the back, say, "Stand up" (woo)
Then put your motherf*ckin' face down, ass up
Nigga been rich too long for makin' these songs, my nigga, it's past luck
F*ckin' this bitch too long, she offered the threesome and I just passed up (damn)
She wanna go in the 'Rari (too small)
I wanna rip in the Wraith (let's go)
I wanna look at the stars (stars)
Like I was hittin' in space (yeah)
Nigga, how you get back home? (How he get back?)
Take a look at his case (check him out)
Said her period's on (what happened?)
I put it on her face

Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (yeah, yeah)
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (Harlem)
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (Meek Mill, what up?)
Twenty bad bitches goin' up with the gang
They f*ckin' for free (ooh-ooh)
You call her phone, I call her phone
She comin' to me (err)

Got a boss bitch, Dominican
Slim with the buns, cinnamon
Friend got the cake like Entenmann's
East coast bitch in Timberlands (yeah)
Dip with the set like Killa Cam
Hop on a jet and we get a tan
Like Mortal Kombat when she throw it back
Her friends like, "Finish him" (fight)
Run up, gon' flex, huh
It look like I'm looting in my closet, with the baguettes, huh
I just hit Will up with a deposit (yeah), fill up my neck, huh
Lookin' like light bugs sittin' on my collar (right)
We been stressed, huh, pull up with a mink, look like I am Chewbacca
Blocka-blocka, turned to shottas if them coppers try to pop us (Ferg)
Then go sit at John and Vinny's, have some pasta with some mobsters (yeah)
Swervin' through Philly, I'm hangin' with Billies and nobody really can stop us (woo)
Bee-ya, bee-ya, we throw dollars, got your bee-ya pussy poppin' like
Bee-ya, bee-ya, why you actin' like a ho? Like a ho
Bee-ya, bee-ya, why you actin' like a ho? Like a ho
Bee-ya, bee-ya, get yo' eyes up off my dough, off my dough (yeah)
Bee-ya, bee-ya, get yo' eyes up off my dough, off my dough (that's right, that's right)

Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (niggas ain't f*ckin'-)
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (they can't touch us)
Twenty bad bitches goin' up with the gang
They f*ckin' for free (f*ckin' for free)
You call her phone, I call her phone
She comin' to me

Bee-ya, bee-ya
F*ckin' this bad bitch from the projects, her name Tia
Head was good, the best on earth like Russ and Bia
Nigga asked me did I see her, but I ain't see her
But I did, 'cause she was tucked in the fahina
Spanish bitches goin' up like la marina
She a hot girl and I'm hot too, jalapeño
We sell work and she wan' work 'cause she a Pinger
We gon' serve that lil' bitch
(Gang, gang, gang, gang, gang)
(Gang, gang, gang, gang, gang)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

F*ckin' with me, niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (niggas ain't f*ckin'-)
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me, you niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
Woah, woah (woah, woah)
Woah, woah (woah, woah)
Woah, woah, woah, woah
Drop (yeah)

Flew her out on the first flight
Got that pussy the first night
Niggas say it's war, then it's on sight, gang, gang (brrt)
Walk in this bitch with all this ice
I could've came through in a 'Rari but hit the hood on my dirt bike, yeah (man)
Countin' these bands up, been f*ckin' my hands up (f*ck it up)
I was in Paris, I pay for the drill, hit your mans up (brrt)
Big Glock .40 on the hipline, hold my pants up (hold it up)
She was confused, like, "How you the G.O.A.T. in a Lamb' truck? (She like, "What?")
F*ckin' this tall bitch from the back, say, "Stand up" (woo)
Then put your motherf*ckin' face down, ass up
Nigga been rich too long for makin' these songs, my nigga, it's past luck
F*ckin' this bitch too long, she offered the threesome and I just passed up (damn)
She wanna go in the 'Rari (too small)
I wanna rip in the Wraith (let's go)
I wanna look at the stars (stars)
Like I was hittin' in space (yeah)
Nigga, how you get back home? (How he get back?)
Take a look at his case (check him out)
Said her period's on (what happened?)
I put it on her face

Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (yeah, yeah)
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (Harlem)
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (Meek Mill, what up?)
Twenty bad bitches goin' up with the gang
They f*ckin' for free (ooh-ooh)
You call her phone, I call her phone
She comin' to me (err)

Got a boss bitch, Dominican
Slim with the buns, cinnamon
Friend got the cake like Entenmann's
East coast bitch in Timberlands (yeah)
Dip with the set like Killa Cam
Hop on a jet and we get a tan
Like Mortal Kombat when she throw it back
Her friends like, "Finish him" (fight)
Run up, gon' flex, huh
It look like I'm looting in my closet, with the baguettes, huh
I just hit Will up with a deposit (yeah), fill up my neck, huh
Lookin' like light bugs sittin' on my collar (right)
We been stressed, huh, pull up with a mink, look like I am Chewbacca
Blocka-blocka, turned to shottas if them coppers try to pop us (Ferg)
Then go sit at John and Vinny's, have some pasta with some mobsters (yeah)
Swervin' through Philly, I'm hangin' with Billies and nobody really can stop us (woo)
Bee-ya, bee-ya, we throw dollars, got your bee-ya pussy poppin' like
Bee-ya, bee-ya, why you actin' like a ho? Like a ho
Bee-ya, bee-ya, why you actin' like a ho? Like a ho
Bee-ya, bee-ya, get yo' eyes up off my dough, off my dough (yeah)
Bee-ya, bee-ya, get yo' eyes up off my dough, off my dough (that's right, that's right)

Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (niggas ain't f*ckin'-)
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
Niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (they can't touch us)
Twenty bad bitches goin' up with the gang
They f*ckin' for free (f*ckin' for free)
You call her phone, I call her phone
She comin' to me

Bee-ya, bee-ya
F*ckin' this bad bitch from the projects, her name Tia
Head was good, the best on earth like Russ and Bia
Nigga asked me did I see her, but I ain't see her
But I did, 'cause she was tucked in the fahina
Spanish bitches goin' up like la marina
She a hot girl and I'm hot too, jalapeño
We sell work and she wan' work 'cause she a Pinger
We gon' serve that lil' bitch
(Gang, gang, gang, gang, gang)
(Gang, gang, gang, gang, gang)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Darold Brown, Jonathan Smith, Matthew Samuels, Robert Williams, Sammie Norris, Stephanie Martin, Todd Anthony Shaw
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, SEED SHOP LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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