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Meek Mill

Genres: Hip-Hop

Repo (cassidy Diss) Lyrics - Meek Mill

We gon' knock this right out 

We gon' skate to one song and one song only nigga! 

 

Yeah! 

 

Really? 

Fuckin' "Condom Style"? "Get your jig on"? 

You a clown-ass nigga, put a wig on 

Nigga I be goin H. A. M. Till the pig gone 

All this ice around my neck, I got a fridge on! 

Body Cass, put 'em in a body bag 

Broke nigga, we should put you in a bodycast 

Real nigga, all I know is get a lot of cash 

I took you hater niggas spot that's why you prolly mad! 

My story, all guts, glory 

Posted on the corner, Glock. 40 tucked on me 

20 years on me, me and my army 

Feelin' like none of y'all niggas can harm me 

I came from the bottom where they never make it at 

With all my jewels on they ain't never takin' that 

There's rules to the game I ain't never breakin' that 

And once you give a statement, nigga, you can never take it back 

You lame part of the game, nigga pardon the fame 

I got 30 in my clip I can park in your frame 

Plus this Rollie on my wrist cost some cars and change 

We talking bike life, 'bout to put a park in my name 

Just to ride on you niggas, or slide on you niggas 

G550 when we glide on you niggas like 

Clyde on you niggas, homicide on you nigga 

I ain't never had no rap, had no ties to you niggas, so 

Why you suckas hatin' and talkin' 'bout what I'm makin'? 

When I be out in Jamaica and ballin' like I'm like a Laker 

It's givers and it's takers, these niggas is gettin faker 

And I'm just gettin' richer I wake up and get my cake up! 

Black Maserati, chinchillas from Papi 

Ten killers beside me, all lookin' like ahkis 

I remember nights on corners with beef and broccoli 

Rice and gravy, now it's crazy cause Phillipe's got me 

All gold ap, same watch as Jay-Z 

Ballin' like I'm kd, how can niggas play me? 

If you ain't talkin' money nigga fuck you, pay me 

Drophead with the top down and the A. C. 

On, drawn, fuck is y'all doin' 

I'mma king you a pawn, lil nigga I'mma Don 

The coke price high, it cost 40 for a jawn 

And like 20 for a half lil nigga do the math 

And you talkin' bout a battle rap, how you gon' handle that? 

100 grand pussy nigga, you ain't got the tab for that 

You ain't got the stacks for that, you the one we laughin' at 

You ain't got half of that, they pump you up: Asthma attack 

Bye clown, calm down 'fore you make me bomb now 

Fucking all these superstars like "Who Meek Milly bomb now?" 

Went from driving Bentleys to going half on pie pounds 

You niggas need to die down, Philly nigga: my town 

I heard your car got re-poed 

But this is bike life boy you just got Deebo'd 

You in the field tryna turn to God like Tebow 

Naw that won't work nigga, that'll get you murked nigga 

All-black Ghost nigga, looking like a hearse nigga 

Been a dead man, so I'mma dig you out the Earth nigga 

Just to stuff your skeleton right back into the dirt nigga 

What you made this year? What you worth nigga? 

I dropped "Dreams & Nightmares, " I made church nigga 

I did "I'ma Boss, " youngin' set the summer off 

Man these old niggas mad at me cause they fallin' off! 

Ha! Get your hate on Cass 

And we ain't talking larceny cause they all trash 

And your goons ain't riding witcha, they all mad 

Cause you ain't never put no food up in ar abs 

My dog killed a body for ya, damn he didn't eat from it 

Now you mad at Swizz cause you can't get a beat from him 

Once my niggas coming at you dog, we gon' keep comin' 

We ain't no Forest Gump nigga, better keep runnin' 

D. C. Nigga, you P. C. Nigga 

While you was scared, I was eatin' chichi nigga 

Talking to Tip about how we gon' beast these niggas 

All I know is bang bang, like that Chief Keef nigga 

Got a matte black Aston, gold rims on it 

Bitch looking like it got a pair of Timbs on it 

Cashmere sweater, bunch of Jims on it 

All my guns come with extends on it 

Duck? And hit up, tuck nigga you lit up 

Cause you looking like food my youngins ready to get up 

Call you for a verse and tell you to write some shit up 

Boom, high stick up, jumping all out the pick up, woah 

 

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You know you fucked up right? 

The "hustla" 

You know you fucked up right? 

Man I ain't doing this shit no more with you nut ass niggas 

I came in the game, I ain't even signed a year nigga 

I got more money than all you hatin' ass old niggas put together 

Y'all niggas ain't do shit! 

Talkin' all this Philly shit 

Y'all niggas ain't put no foreigns out here nigga 

All my niggas drive foreigns! 

My niggas don't even rap and drive better cars than you niggas 

Coon copped that 'Rari, you don't feel sorry for these bitch ass rappers! 

You can't come to Philly no more! 

And not even because of this, you was never comin' to Philly 

You been living here eight years you pussy ass nigga! 

 

Photos 

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