Meek Mill - FYM (CDQ) lyrics

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Meek Mill - FYM (CDQ) lyrics

Hold up wait a minute Y'all thought I was finished f** you mean boy I spent a thousand on these mahf**ing jeans boy So much money got it busting out the seams boy You got my old b**h I took my new b**h out your dreams boy What the f** you mean boy What the f** you mean, what the f** you mean Same hoes that said I couldn't get it trying to kick it Balmain denim spent a thousand on the ticket Trapping out the bando money knocking like who is it Think that Benji at the door, grab the chopper go and get it I sit back all leaning, ain't no rap star neither Let that mac off screaming, we cook that crack hard, cement I got your rent on my belt, talking your house on my wrist Your car note on my jeans, my sneaks bloody as sh** That's murder sing bloody murder bloody murder I ask your b**h do all this money made her nervous She do it good and I'mma pay her for her service When bosses talking shut your mouth if you a worker Cause I've been working chasing money like I'm hurting Getting p**y in my Maybach think the driver heard us Roll the partition up All in the cut act like this broad give a f** I know she down for whatever gon' do it all for a buck And now that Boosie back home know we gon' ball for a month Cause real n***as come first that's why we all in the front And s**as all in the back, and all of us strapped Why don't we f** with you p**y n***as, cause all of them rats I keep a hundred grand in these Robin jeans What the f** you mean b**hes left me in prison they threw away their dreams I'm the leader of the mad max murder team Ice man conscious and my money is growing trees Sicker than ever richer than ever call a Brinks truck What the f** you mean girl, its two words b**h f** I beat it up, holding my line you better get it up Buzz strong money long street n***a real as f** What the f** you mean, what the f** you mean f** you, f** your momma, and f** your team The seems busting out my jeans I need HOV money No 360 deal this sh** real get all my show money Hold up let me let my money talk My rollie cost your house, my shows sold out Got more thousand dollar jeans that there's stores up in the South In my heart I'm a boss and this is this is this is what the f** I'm mean Boosie Badazz ball biggest bank rolls You can have my old b**h cause I don't do the same hoes The jeans in my closet add up to a Range Rover What the f** you mean I'm that n***a game over