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Meek Mill – Intro Lyrics (feat. Rick Ross)

Meek Mill – Intro Lyrics
(feat. Rick Ross)

We in the championship
We was down 3-1
(I can feel it coming in the air tonight)
Philly, Champions of the United States (Oh lord)
(And I've been waiting for this moment for all my life)
Yeah, turn me up Cruz (Oh Lord)

Bombin' on any of them niggas that want the smoke (Woo!)
Nigga, this a big boy Phantom, this ain't a Ghost (It ain't)
Had to take the wave from them niggas and then they toast (Fuck 'em)
They ain't have no sympathy for me when I was broke (Amen, amen)
Lord, forgive me (Lord, forgive me) for all my sins (All my sins)
Took so many risks just to get a Benz (Get a Benz)
Pray for my niggas (All my niggas), all my friends (Yeah)
In the trenches, warring with killas, we been getting it in

32 shots in my new Glock (Yes!)
Niggas wanna hit me like I'm 2Pac (Yes!)
Bad bitch, fuck me in my Gucci tube socks (Yes!)
'Member when I spit my re-up on a oowop, whoa!
Your favorite rapper a mumble rapper
Walk up in this bitch, a bunch of killers and humble trappers
I can't go to Hollywood, too caught in this jungle action
Where niggas that'll smoke you go and murder your brother after, whoa
Big dog, nigga, I'm a big dog (Big dog)
Tricks say they need that dope, they having withdraws (Yeah)
I put on my yellow diamonds when I'm pissed off
I'm so rich that I can't even fuck a bitch raw, whoa
Do you know the feeling? (Do you?)
Being irritated 'cause you gotta count a million? (Ah!)
All this fucking money, I ain't got no time for chilling
We took risks to live like this through all that killing and drug dealing
You my nigga, I fuck with you, we gon' thug it out
Say it's beef, we going to war, nigga, let's slug it out
Big Backwood, we at your door, blooder in your fucking house
I heard your daddy was a rat, so you a fucking mouse, nigga

Pouring champagne 'cause all my niggas dead (Niggas dead)
If they ain't in the graveyard, then they in the feds (Facts!)
I give a fuck if that crown heavy, put it on my head (Put it up!)
Take it to the jeweler, bust it down before I wear it (Yeah)
Woo! 'Cause I'm a king, just like Martin Luther (Martin Luther)
I ain't a hater, fuck my bitch, nigga, I salute ya (Salute)
I be flying giant chopper like that shit was Uber
We finally made it out them trenches nigga, Hallelujah, whoa!

Balling like a hot boy (Yea, yeah)
Diamonds dancing on me more than JB Blocboy (Dance, dance)
I'm a boss, I'm the one that call the shots, boy (Shots)
You a thottie, I won't cuff you like a cop, whore (Like a cop)
No way! Ooh, I just cashed out
How the fuck you turn a rental to a glass house?
How the fuck you get a two to four bail out?
Got your favorite Instagram bitch with her ass out, hey

Make her touch her toes, make her touch her toes (Touch it, touch it)
Running back a milly every couple shows (Runnin' up)
Trappin' at the Waldorf, we just fuckin' hoes (Ah!)
And they lovin' that Chanel, they gon' sell they souls (Yeah)
Brought up through the gutter, I ain't never bold (Brought up)
You would think this Wheel Of Fortune, how we selling O's (Yeah)
Plug just called, he got another load
He know I'ma get 'em sold

Bring her out that Birkin
Young niggas still fucking all the baddest bitches on earth
When I'm off in them trenches, I'm a Hotboy, like Turk
30 shot it's itching, and that Glock, boy, that's work
You can get popped, pussy, no twerk, ho!
Nigga, we tryna make that money machine break ('Chine break)
Shooting 'em out that van like it's Team 8 (Team 8)
Nigga, we used to trap it by the green gate (Gate)
80's baby, that cooked crack up in my DNA, ho!

Oh, scary hours
Walk inside of LIV, they gon' have to fetti shower
You knew what it was when you had to let me out it
Living like the plug, nigga, I ain't selling powder, no way
Big bags, talking Santa Claus
Got 3 hoes off that molly ripping panties off
Flying private to Dubai, we off them Xanny bars
Oh, scary hours, turn the cameras off, please


Writer(s): T. MEEKS