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Meek Mill – The Motto (Freestyle) Lyrics (with Wale)

Meek Mill – The Motto (Freestyle) Lyrics
(with Wale)

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
Bottle after bottle, model after model
Spending all this paper like I fucking hit the lotto
All I know is YOLO, nigga, that’s the motto
Ricky told me, “Get em,” and I told him that I got ‘em
And I got ‘em every day, every day
Bad bitch and she gon fuck me every way, never stay
Once I hit it, then I’m dipping that-a-way, that-a-way
Young nigga from the bottom and I never had a way
I really went from whipping 62′s to whipping 62′s
Ain’t none of my niggas Crip, and we giving niggas the blues
We buying they hoes bags, getting they bitches shoes
You wondering why she ain’t fucking, we winning, nigga you lose
Yeah, I’m flexing
I pull up in a Ghost, hundred on my necklace
And all my diamonds clear, they VVS’ing
I turn into a toilet on these niggas, they BS-ing
Two fingers, did it on ‘em
Hold up, I really shitted on ‘em
I dropped Dreamchaser and I made a milli on ‘em
It don’t matter what city I’m in, I’m going Philly in ‘em
With my red P hat, nigga you know we back
I’m going to Houston, I heard that’s where they cheap at
I done put them Percs down, think I’m ’bout to relapse
Just to give her dope dick and ask her for some feedback
Like “Shorty, do you love this dick?
You know who you fucking with?”
Grab her by her weave, smack her ass like you fucking bitch
Don’t I talk nasty, she don’t know my government
But she gon’ get this dick and chew me up just like some Double Mint
Check me I be jumping out the coupe, swagger through the roof
Bad bitches waving at me, real niggas salute
I ain’t gotta lie, they know I’m the truth
And I ain’t gotta say I’m fly, this G5 with the crew
I’m in the air bitch, diamonds clear bitch
Took off my Rollie and got on some Audemeer shit
I hear these haters talking, but I don’t hear shit
‘Cause we get them bricks and stack them up just like a pyramid

Y’all niggas talk like bitches do
Same niggas in the district giving interviews
I got killers on my team that’ll get at you
For a brick or two, really put an end to you

[Verse 2: Wale]
Black 3 cement, sag jeans sittin -low
Effortless flow, a couple sum’n a show
Youngin is 21, we playing [?]
Probably fuck up your budget, yea, I’m playing with numbers
Put that shit on whatever, we running another summer
Liquor, lot of bottles, tab – you know I got it
Spend a night up at Diamonds, ain’t tricking if you got it
Designer shit, though I’m modest, astonishing to be honest
Obama shit on my arm, a presidential, you got it?
Get your revenue popping before you ever do talk on them
Niggas who work too hard to not show it off via flossing
Double M G harder than anything that you part of
This professional ball, the best you niggas
Yea I’m on that ball shit, boy you with that soft shit
‘Fore he hit the room, hear the “Vroom!” from the Porsche bitch
“On that Yamaha, pardon me, that’s Meek and them”
She say she is not a groupie, “I just wanna speak to them!”
You lying though, you tryna go
Apply smoke and watch the motherfucking pride go
These little bitches is little bitches, we never love ‘em
To all the sisters with ambition, I see your hustle
I’m trying to go though, y’all already know though
Stepping on ‘em, they slept on us,
Whoever want it, they better note that I’m so focused
A message to my opponent: they better off trying to clone us
Keep her in Chanel while your bitch is like an L
When she out, you looking in?, all she need is like an L
That’s why I never trust a ho, no never me
I just wanna get some head, maybe ass ‘fore I leave
Fuck a beef, keep it moving, she easily influenced
You niggas keep sleeping, you gon’ need to meet [?]
I can’t stand no motherfucking Hoover
I’ma keep the reefer, you can have the hookah
Versace, Medusa, I probably, abuse it
Around me, my crew, your bitch probably throw two up
Party with bitches that throw parties too much
We skip right to fucking, they call you that dulush
And what, deuce up