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Correct Repo Lyrics
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Artists: M
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Meek Mill
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Correct Repo
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[Intro:] We gon' knock this right out We gon' skate to one song and one song only nigga! Yeah! [Verse:] 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 Them Twitter niggas fucking with your ego 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 [Outro:] 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!
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