Meek Mill — Chiraq

[Chorus: Meek Mill] You fuck around get smoked You fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around get smoked Nigga, you fuck around get smoked [Verse 1: Meek Mill] Uh, niggas know the rules in my hood If you touch me you get murked We ain't with that back and forth, it ain't no rap, we hittin' first G-5, we be at LIV by Sunday when you in the church Momma stressin', sellin' dinner platers Tryna get your casket and get ya hearse Last nigga that slid on us got dropped on it, he told on us Every nigga you see with me got ice on 'em, bank rolls on us Naw nigga, no 1 on 1's, we don't fight fair, we just roll on 'em V-S stones and Cuban links, all that ice wear with that gold on 'em We ain't swingin' no flag, nigga We ain't need no pass, nigga Glock 40 with a 30 clip and a laser on it, play tag with us Everybody wanna talk bricks 'Til them feds swoop in and grab niggas Dream Chasers got into somethin' We don't ever blink 'cause we trash niggas I don't know if y'all heard 'bout what my homie do with that 30 out Deen Buck still in the cut and the state fittin' to let Ernie out I ain't even gotta say nothin' 'Bout that other homie that you heard about 'Cause if he heard about that you run your mouth He come to your house and start swervin' out Catch me N-Y-C, out Shadyville, I'm in the tank Only time it's Manhattan when I'm in the booth or I'm in the bank Summertime in La Marina with Dominicans goin' in the paint Pullin' up, screamin', "Eh, Dimelo'?" Catch you in Brooklyn, get pita-rolled, pussy! [Chorus: Meek Mill] You fuck around get smoked You fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around get smoked Nigga, you fuck around get smoked You fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around get smoked (Yeah! Ayy, Meek, whattup? Bang! Oh, man in Chiraq) [Verse 2: Lil Durk] Niggas say me and Sosa beefin' But we both eatin', but only one keepin' Told Law he take 15 years Every crime we did we gon Keep It Secret Can't tweet Teyana, corporate nigga lookin' So what I’m on I gotta keep it secret That face no Stevie no Mimi, I promise Teyana that I won't leak it Gripped the 30, just cashed out If you caught strippin' then you assed out I'm the same nigga my city asked about While you in the cut steady buyin' clout Fuck the judge, let 9 out, hairpin trigger, let 9 out Four birds in the trap like four wings at Harold’s With fries covered in mild sauce Everytime a nigga rap beef, get clapped up in a couple weeks IG comments and a couple tweets Location on, we can go and meet Headshot, I'm outta town, I'm in Killadelphia with my nigga Meek Pop a wheelie in N-Y-C, I got the 30 on with my nigga Flee Heard Tyga sneak dissin' on me, tell them thot bitches I'm not right Tyga only got one name, but that nigga ain't got one stripe He backpack, so easy to get the nigga shit snatched Ask Mally Mall to get his shit back In Chiraq, don't come here You ain't from here? Don't come here 'Cause shorty snipin', bag on him if he don't like this No Young Chop, that .40 bangs just like him 30 punch like Tyson Back to the rap flow, hot shit Fuck I gotta rap for, got bricks Every city I go, got sticks Pockets Wells Fargo, no bricks Say I'm on top now, no shit You can never say I wife shit I don't even like shit, I just pipe shit, one night shit L.A. with killas and thuggers New York SlowBucks, them my brothers A-T-L with Migos and Young Thugger We gon' shoot shit up in public And they gotta urge to take Chiraq, look at the murder rate 500 dead bodies, better go and get money 'fore you be on first 48 [Verse 3: Shy Glizzy] You wear red bottoms and Phillip Lim Everybody tryna get a hold of him Bad bitches they be in Benz I knock ‘em down like bowling pins Feds snatch me, I don’t know them Real nigga on 4nem Young Jefe, the new Soulja Slim Hangin’ out the tank with Slow and them Come take a trip to D.C. Hear a lot of Me and see GG I’m the big dog, I’m ringin’ off Like Mambo Sauce on a 3 piece “Glizzy, why you ain’t D.C.?" Who said I ain’t D.C.? Fuck ya bitch to my CD She let me record her like Mimi A nigga playin’, it’s lights out Ooh, shine got me iced out Stay low 'cause the mice out You only get fly when the Mikes out Can't wait 'til it get nice out Tell Chino bring the bikes out Got 50 guns in my trap house You better off fuckin’ with the White House I’m the realest youngin' in the fuckin’ world I got plenty money, I got plenty girls Got a villa for the week, got fifteen freaks And they all wanna go for a fuckin’ swirl Had her come to us with the marble pearls Glock 23, treat her like my girl 357, that bitch just twirl Make him catch our shit like Fitzgerald [Chorus: Meek Mill] You fuck around get smoked You fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around get smoked Nigga, you fuck around get smoked You fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around get smoked