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Meek Mill - Tomorrow Lyrics



Meek Mill - Tomorrow Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Yung Ro ]

(Cheese, his name is Cheese)
Go, go
Yeah (Cheese)
I, I been in my (I been in my)
I been in my (I been in my)
I been in my motherf*ckin' bag (gang, gang, gang, gang, yeah)

He say he want smoke with me
I might get him smoked tomorrow
Speakin' on my dead homies on the 'Gram, he got to go tomorrow
I be on that money 'cause all that violence I might go too far
If I be honest, I ain't really respond 'cause I ain't even knowin' y'all

Pretty thing suckin' all on this D until she choke out
Extendo in this Glicky, can't even hide it, it's gon' poke out
Keepin' in mind my business
Hittin' my hoes all at my ho house
Two hundred bands to go to the club and I ain't really tryna go out
Hundred racks on me, give her ten bands if she show out (ten bands)
Got to keep that strap on me never know how it's gon' turn out (brrt)
Take her to a island, somewhere private, she ain't even heard 'bout
Playin' nonchalant but I know I'm that nigga they been worryin' 'bout
Gettin' head all in the air
Bad bitch top tier, this ain't even fair
Trapper of the year, walk in the bank, fftt,check gon' clear
Pillow talk with her, y'all niggas be weird, I really be sharin' (weirdos)
Give some ones to her, might f*ck her real good, I don't really be carin'
With none of these hoes, I don't really be playin'
This Rolls so new, it drive itself, I don't really be steerin' (skrrt)
Virgil made this Louis on me his self, like, "What it he wearin'?" (What?)
I'm gon' pop my shit in by myself, or with my man
Even when I'm up I get in that van (slide)

He say he want smoke with me
I think he should blow it off
My young boy tryna spin today
I don't think he should go at all
He still went today 'cause he so crazy
He think he know it all
Fell in love with slidin', so we turned him to a bowlin' ball, gang

Yeah, yeah
Choppin' shit, you would think I'm went to school for culinary
Freeze his 'Gram
Make him use his last post as a obituary
Ain't no one on one, we stomp you out
You know that we stick together
He know I can't trust him with this pole we never blick together
Yeah, yeah
She just brought a roll
Don't f*ck with these hoes, she got her shit together
Bitch, I'm in my bag that's why they mad, we finna be rich forever (I'm in my bag)
Yeah, Meek my murder twin
All they hear is, "Brrt," when we get together (that's my murder twin)
I'll spank a nigga with this switch, this shit like disciplinary (come here)
You ain't see me comin', bitch, what's wrong?
Oh, your vision blurry? (Oh, you ain't see me comin')
You ain't see that Hellcat in your rearview
Or hear that engine roarin'? (You ain't see that 'Cat)
They tell me put my gun down, but I'm beefin', f*ckin' Melissa Ford (bitch, I'm beefin')
Boy, I'm not a rapper, I'm a trapper, what you lookin' for?
She want me to f*ck her good, I ain't gon give a f*ck tomorrow
He say he got smoke with me, he might not wake up tomorrow
She want put that pussy on me, f*ck her good and never call her
.223s in traffic now, they know I'm forever ballin' (what up?)

(Promotional use only)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(Cheese, his name is Cheese)
Go, go
Yeah (Cheese)
I, I been in my (I been in my)
I been in my (I been in my)
I been in my motherf*ckin' bag (gang, gang, gang, gang, yeah)

He say he want smoke with me
I might get him smoked tomorrow
Speakin' on my dead homies on the 'Gram, he got to go tomorrow
I be on that money 'cause all that violence I might go too far
If I be honest, I ain't really respond 'cause I ain't even knowin' y'all

Pretty thing suckin' all on this D until she choke out
Extendo in this Glicky, can't even hide it, it's gon' poke out
Keepin' in mind my business
Hittin' my hoes all at my ho house
Two hundred bands to go to the club and I ain't really tryna go out
Hundred racks on me, give her ten bands if she show out (ten bands)
Got to keep that strap on me never know how it's gon' turn out (brrt)
Take her to a island, somewhere private, she ain't even heard 'bout
Playin' nonchalant but I know I'm that nigga they been worryin' 'bout
Gettin' head all in the air
Bad bitch top tier, this ain't even fair
Trapper of the year, walk in the bank, fftt,check gon' clear
Pillow talk with her, y'all niggas be weird, I really be sharin' (weirdos)
Give some ones to her, might f*ck her real good, I don't really be carin'
With none of these hoes, I don't really be playin'
This Rolls so new, it drive itself, I don't really be steerin' (skrrt)
Virgil made this Louis on me his self, like, "What it he wearin'?" (What?)
I'm gon' pop my shit in by myself, or with my man
Even when I'm up I get in that van (slide)

He say he want smoke with me
I think he should blow it off
My young boy tryna spin today
I don't think he should go at all
He still went today 'cause he so crazy
He think he know it all
Fell in love with slidin', so we turned him to a bowlin' ball, gang

Yeah, yeah
Choppin' shit, you would think I'm went to school for culinary
Freeze his 'Gram
Make him use his last post as a obituary
Ain't no one on one, we stomp you out
You know that we stick together
He know I can't trust him with this pole we never blick together
Yeah, yeah
She just brought a roll
Don't f*ck with these hoes, she got her shit together
Bitch, I'm in my bag that's why they mad, we finna be rich forever (I'm in my bag)
Yeah, Meek my murder twin
All they hear is, "Brrt," when we get together (that's my murder twin)
I'll spank a nigga with this switch, this shit like disciplinary (come here)
You ain't see me comin', bitch, what's wrong?
Oh, your vision blurry? (Oh, you ain't see me comin')
You ain't see that Hellcat in your rearview
Or hear that engine roarin'? (You ain't see that 'Cat)
They tell me put my gun down, but I'm beefin', f*ckin' Melissa Ford (bitch, I'm beefin')
Boy, I'm not a rapper, I'm a trapper, what you lookin' for?
She want me to f*ck her good, I ain't gon give a f*ck tomorrow
He say he got smoke with me, he might not wake up tomorrow
She want put that pussy on me, f*ck her good and never call her
.223s in traffic now, they know I'm forever ballin' (what up?)

(Promotional use only)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Robert Rihmeek Williams, Antonio Anderson Jr., Roland Sato Lee Page
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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