| I am the streets, the future | |
| I introduce you to | |
| Ace Hood, | |
| Meek Mills, | |
| Big Sean, | |
| Wale, Vado | |
| This the future | |
| They getting money, they making hit records | |
| They hustling[Verse 1 — Ace Hood] | |
| Okay now Khaled told me kill them | |
| He just told me kill them | |
| Hundred for the | |
| BeamerKudos to the dealer | |
| Murder, bet | |
| I wrote it | |
| Kudos to the killers | |
| Chevy sitting crooked | |
| Keep the Reggie | |
| MillerI'm a motherfucking beast | |
| See me in your sleep | |
| Nightmare on any street | |
| Swear I will mark any beat | |
| Spread this to the industry | |
| Lyrics like a chopper piece | |
| Blow right through your fitted | |
| TPull this through with chemistry | |
| Hottest nigga around, they saying | |
| Greatness is my tendency | |
| No such thing as sympathy | |
| More money, my remedy, pockets on, | |
| Heavy DBitch | |
| I'm hot, 3rd degree, whip | |
| I drive? Owned by me | |
| Wrists and neck, anti-freeze, can it be? | |
| I'm who you dying to be | |
| Last of a dying breed, tote the | |
| SiameseTwin pistol, shoot nigga like a 7 | |
| DBig dog, get it? | |
| You still on your pedigree | |
| Yeah, fly nigga with some stupid swag | |
| Dead faces, keep my money in a body bag | |
| And I'm G- | |
| U-T-T-A, hop in the whip and | |
| I got to get paid | |
| Fuck them bitches, ain't trying to get laid | |
| Walk in my house, you can meet my maid | |
| Any given day | |
| I'ma push that ' | |
| LacPush that | |
| Benz on, I'ma push that lake | |
| Hop to the whip, no top on mine | |
| Hear a nigga hate, man fuck them guys | |
| Real nigga shit, don't tell no lie | |
| Private plane, my seat recline | |
| Top ten charts where | |
| I resideCome to your house and run inside[Verse 2 - Meek Mill] | |
| Meek Mill! | |
| We the motherfucking best | |
| Word to my mama | |
| Rock presidential, got me feeling like | |
| ObamaBecause all | |
| I wanted was change | |
| And my niggas they wanted the same | |
| I wanted the money, and never the fame | |
| I turned into something they never became | |
| Through all that rain, | |
| I kept my flame | |
| And I kept burning and it's my turn and | |
| Real nigga my hood confirm it | |
| Now it's 6 2′s on closed curtains | |
| And that Maybach, let me take them way back | |
| When I was starving, now it's payback | |
| Nigga where that cake at? | |
| Murder all your artists | |
| And I, I, | |
| I can feel that love, but | |
| I feel that hate | |
| When I got that slug, | |
| I just feel so safe | |
| I put it to your mug, it ain't gone wait | |
| It go away when that thing gone fly | |
| Got a little kick, but it ain't no tire | |
| Niggas try murder, but they ain't gone ride | |
| Let me go hard like | |
| I ain't going to die | |
| Meek Mill![Verse 3 - Big Sean] | |
| Smoke until | |
| I got no lungs | |
| Got her going down, no teeth | |
| I call it "speaking tongues" | |
| Do it! Do it! | |
| Now you speaking my language | |
| From where they twist and talk with they fingers | |
| Man, but this ain't no sign language | |
| Yes, fresh out of the ashes it's a | |
| Detroit fucking classic | |
| From where | |
| MM got the masses, | |
| Trick Trick got them passes | |
| Bitch I'm from the | |
| Motor, Motor | |
| Yeah, that motor be the fastest | |
| Bitch, they call it | |
| Motor City | |
| Because you're most likely to crash | |
| Fuck it!Good thing | |
| I got a chauffeur, chauffeur | |
| Going broke? | |
| No sir!Bitch | |
| I'm a rap game stylist, because | |
| I gave the rap game style, bitch | |
| But I over shine | |
| Ain't no niggas over shine | |
| Told them "Roll up five quarters" so | |
| I guess we're going overtime | |
| Till we dumb high, dumb high | |
| Westside, bitch, | |
| I run mine | |
| I'm rolling around in my old school, | |
| I feel like the alumni | |
| Fucking hoes, no strings attached | |
| So don't ask me why they strung out | |
| I'm like Jordan to you niggas | |
| I might need to stick my tongue out | |
| She wiggled and wobble, bobbled | |
| Then land on my throttle | |
| Bitch, I might make you my baby | |
| And even buy you a bottle | |
| Your niggas don't ask how the top feel | |
| When you keep them right beside you | |
| My pockets got paper on paper | |
| This shit just look like a novel | |
| Hundred thousand worth of ice on me now | |
| But it don't feel half as good as | |
| Grandma say, and she proud[Verse 4 - Wale] | |
| Forever dedicated, made my poetic genius | |
| Some think they close to seeing me | |
| Tell them they close to | |
| StevieYou poser niggas ain't supposed to be here | |
| We don't believe you | |
| Double MG, and we put a wreath on niggas' career | |
| We the best, | |
| KhaledNo need to stress, | |
| KhaledKnow there's a lot of artists | |
| But I got the best palette | |
| Multiple colors, my mind is more productive than others | |
| Murray the winner, he think he really | |
| Nelson Mandela | |
| That's fire though, one time for the 305, though | |
| That hydro make me tired, yo | |
| My kicking be so | |
| Tai Bo!My balance be so tight rope | |
| That's hard to find, quick try flow | |
| Give up with me, that knife flow | |
| Hold over me, | |
| I'm maestro, shit | |
| That white whip sit | |
| Like a slight wrist slit | |
| Suicide shit, you can by shit, if you write this shit | |
| Nigga, and right this minute, they say | |
| I'm buzzing hard | |
| My driver's out of this world, you playing bumper cars. | |
| You niggas under cause | |
| You should be unemployed | |
| All you smoke is | |
| Reggie, I'm in the tellie, bunch of noise | |
| Who gone tell me that | |
| I ain't going, that | |
| I ain't flowing? | |
| Young Folarin, you see them puters | |
| That was my influence[Verse 5 - Vado] | |
| The towers fell | |
| Turn into | |
| Ground Zero | |
| Kissing like | |
| Reggie Jackson, | |
| Nicky Barnes, they hero | |
| As I play | |
| RothsteinCorleone like | |
| Rob De Niro | |
| Been through it, but here though | |
| Dope move in the weirdos | |
| Dress pimping the toast like let's win | |
| Your house is on | |
| West and 4th pipes and | |
| Lex winWhile me in a | |
| Maserati bricking his best friends | |
| When I die, tell them to turn my coffin to stretch | |
| BenzRims on it, problems? | |
| My man's on | |
| See him, we stomp him out | |
| His mouth, my | |
| Timbs' on it | |
| Only smoking a ounce, a mountain, no tens on it | |
| Spins on it, you have no cloud, the | |
| Benz on it | |
| What the fiends say? | |
| Few roses, you need spray, on tours, eat straight | |
| Making sure all your feet sprayed | |
| Get the pills through, peel through | |
| SRT-8Trunk on, seats gray, drop tops like release dates | |
| Vado |
| I am the streets, the future | |
| I introduce you to | |
| Ace Hood, | |
| Meek Mills, | |
| Big Sean, | |
| Wale, Vado | |
| This the future | |
| They getting money, they making hit records | |
| They hustling Verse 1 Ace Hood | |
| Okay now Khaled told me kill them | |
| He just told me kill them | |
| Hundred for the | |
| BeamerKudos to the dealer | |
| Murder, bet | |
| I wrote it | |
| Kudos to the killers | |
| Chevy sitting crooked | |
| Keep the Reggie | |
| MillerI' m a motherfucking beast | |
| See me in your sleep | |
| Nightmare on any street | |
| Swear I will mark any beat | |
| Spread this to the industry | |
| Lyrics like a chopper piece | |
| Blow right through your fitted | |
| TPull this through with chemistry | |
| Hottest nigga around, they saying | |
| Greatness is my tendency | |
| No such thing as sympathy | |
| More money, my remedy, pockets on, | |
| Heavy DBitch | |
| I' m hot, 3rd degree, whip | |
| I drive? Owned by me | |
| Wrists and neck, antifreeze, can it be? | |
| I' m who you dying to be | |
| Last of a dying breed, tote the | |
| SiameseTwin pistol, shoot nigga like a 7 | |
| DBig dog, get it? | |
| You still on your pedigree | |
| Yeah, fly nigga with some stupid swag | |
| Dead faces, keep my money in a body bag | |
| And I' m G | |
| UTTA, hop in the whip and | |
| I got to get paid | |
| Fuck them bitches, ain' t trying to get laid | |
| Walk in my house, you can meet my maid | |
| Any given day | |
| I' ma push that ' | |
| LacPush that | |
| Benz on, I' ma push that lake | |
| Hop to the whip, no top on mine | |
| Hear a nigga hate, man fuck them guys | |
| Real nigga shit, don' t tell no lie | |
| Private plane, my seat recline | |
| Top ten charts where | |
| I resideCome to your house and run inside Verse 2 Meek Mill | |
| Meek Mill! | |
| We the motherfucking best | |
| Word to my mama | |
| Rock presidential, got me feeling like | |
| ObamaBecause all | |
| I wanted was change | |
| And my niggas they wanted the same | |
| I wanted the money, and never the fame | |
| I turned into something they never became | |
| Through all that rain, | |
| I kept my flame | |
| And I kept burning and it' s my turn and | |
| Real nigga my hood confirm it | |
| Now it' s 6 2 s on closed curtains | |
| And that Maybach, let me take them way back | |
| When I was starving, now it' s payback | |
| Nigga where that cake at? | |
| Murder all your artists | |
| And I, I, | |
| I can feel that love, but | |
| I feel that hate | |
| When I got that slug, | |
| I just feel so safe | |
| I put it to your mug, it ain' t gone wait | |
| It go away when that thing gone fly | |
| Got a little kick, but it ain' t no tire | |
| Niggas try murder, but they ain' t gone ride | |
| Let me go hard like | |
| I ain' t going to die | |
| Meek Mill! Verse 3 Big Sean | |
| Smoke until | |
| I got no lungs | |
| Got her going down, no teeth | |
| I call it " speaking tongues" | |
| Do it! Do it! | |
| Now you speaking my language | |
| From where they twist and talk with they fingers | |
| Man, but this ain' t no sign language | |
| Yes, fresh out of the ashes it' s a | |
| Detroit fucking classic | |
| From where | |
| MM got the masses, | |
| Trick Trick got them passes | |
| Bitch I' m from the | |
| Motor, Motor | |
| Yeah, that motor be the fastest | |
| Bitch, they call it | |
| Motor City | |
| Because you' re most likely to crash | |
| Fuck it! Good thing | |
| I got a chauffeur, chauffeur | |
| Going broke? | |
| No sir! Bitch | |
| I' m a rap game stylist, because | |
| I gave the rap game style, bitch | |
| But I over shine | |
| Ain' t no niggas over shine | |
| Told them " Roll up five quarters" so | |
| I guess we' re going overtime | |
| Till we dumb high, dumb high | |
| Westside, bitch, | |
| I run mine | |
| I' m rolling around in my old school, | |
| I feel like the alumni | |
| Fucking hoes, no strings attached | |
| So don' t ask me why they strung out | |
| I' m like Jordan to you niggas | |
| I might need to stick my tongue out | |
| She wiggled and wobble, bobbled | |
| Then land on my throttle | |
| Bitch, I might make you my baby | |
| And even buy you a bottle | |
| Your niggas don' t ask how the top feel | |
| When you keep them right beside you | |
| My pockets got paper on paper | |
| This shit just look like a novel | |
| Hundred thousand worth of ice on me now | |
| But it don' t feel half as good as | |
| Grandma say, and she proud Verse 4 Wale | |
| Forever dedicated, made my poetic genius | |
| Some think they close to seeing me | |
| Tell them they close to | |
| StevieYou poser niggas ain' t supposed to be here | |
| We don' t believe you | |
| Double MG, and we put a wreath on niggas' career | |
| We the best, | |
| KhaledNo need to stress, | |
| KhaledKnow there' s a lot of artists | |
| But I got the best palette | |
| Multiple colors, my mind is more productive than others | |
| Murray the winner, he think he really | |
| Nelson Mandela | |
| That' s fire though, one time for the 305, though | |
| That hydro make me tired, yo | |
| My kicking be so | |
| Tai Bo! My balance be so tight rope | |
| That' s hard to find, quick try flow | |
| Give up with me, that knife flow | |
| Hold over me, | |
| I' m maestro, shit | |
| That white whip sit | |
| Like a slight wrist slit | |
| Suicide shit, you can by shit, if you write this shit | |
| Nigga, and right this minute, they say | |
| I' m buzzing hard | |
| My driver' s out of this world, you playing bumper cars. | |
| You niggas under cause | |
| You should be unemployed | |
| All you smoke is | |
| Reggie, I' m in the tellie, bunch of noise | |
| Who gone tell me that | |
| I ain' t going, that | |
| I ain' t flowing? | |
| Young Folarin, you see them puters | |
| That was my influence Verse 5 Vado | |
| The towers fell | |
| Turn into | |
| Ground Zero | |
| Kissing like | |
| Reggie Jackson, | |
| Nicky Barnes, they hero | |
| As I play | |
| RothsteinCorleone like | |
| Rob De Niro | |
| Been through it, but here though | |
| Dope move in the weirdos | |
| Dress pimping the toast like let' s win | |
| Your house is on | |
| West and 4th pipes and | |
| Lex winWhile me in a | |
| Maserati bricking his best friends | |
| When I die, tell them to turn my coffin to stretch | |
| BenzRims on it, problems? | |
| My man' s on | |
| See him, we stomp him out | |
| His mouth, my | |
| Timbs' on it | |
| Only smoking a ounce, a mountain, no tens on it | |
| Spins on it, you have no cloud, the | |
| Benz on it | |
| What the fiends say? | |
| Few roses, you need spray, on tours, eat straight | |
| Making sure all your feet sprayed | |
| Get the pills through, peel through | |
| SRT8Trunk on, seats gray, drop tops like release dates | |
| Vado |
| I am the streets, the future | |
| I introduce you to | |
| Ace Hood, | |
| Meek Mills, | |
| Big Sean, | |
| Wale, Vado | |
| This the future | |
| They getting money, they making hit records | |
| They hustling Verse 1 Ace Hood | |
| Okay now Khaled told me kill them | |
| He just told me kill them | |
| Hundred for the | |
| BeamerKudos to the dealer | |
| Murder, bet | |
| I wrote it | |
| Kudos to the killers | |
| Chevy sitting crooked | |
| Keep the Reggie | |
| MillerI' m a motherfucking beast | |
| See me in your sleep | |
| Nightmare on any street | |
| Swear I will mark any beat | |
| Spread this to the industry | |
| Lyrics like a chopper piece | |
| Blow right through your fitted | |
| TPull this through with chemistry | |
| Hottest nigga around, they saying | |
| Greatness is my tendency | |
| No such thing as sympathy | |
| More money, my remedy, pockets on, | |
| Heavy DBitch | |
| I' m hot, 3rd degree, whip | |
| I drive? Owned by me | |
| Wrists and neck, antifreeze, can it be? | |
| I' m who you dying to be | |
| Last of a dying breed, tote the | |
| SiameseTwin pistol, shoot nigga like a 7 | |
| DBig dog, get it? | |
| You still on your pedigree | |
| Yeah, fly nigga with some stupid swag | |
| Dead faces, keep my money in a body bag | |
| And I' m G | |
| UTTA, hop in the whip and | |
| I got to get paid | |
| Fuck them bitches, ain' t trying to get laid | |
| Walk in my house, you can meet my maid | |
| Any given day | |
| I' ma push that ' | |
| LacPush that | |
| Benz on, I' ma push that lake | |
| Hop to the whip, no top on mine | |
| Hear a nigga hate, man fuck them guys | |
| Real nigga shit, don' t tell no lie | |
| Private plane, my seat recline | |
| Top ten charts where | |
| I resideCome to your house and run inside Verse 2 Meek Mill | |
| Meek Mill! | |
| We the motherfucking best | |
| Word to my mama | |
| Rock presidential, got me feeling like | |
| ObamaBecause all | |
| I wanted was change | |
| And my niggas they wanted the same | |
| I wanted the money, and never the fame | |
| I turned into something they never became | |
| Through all that rain, | |
| I kept my flame | |
| And I kept burning and it' s my turn and | |
| Real nigga my hood confirm it | |
| Now it' s 6 2 s on closed curtains | |
| And that Maybach, let me take them way back | |
| When I was starving, now it' s payback | |
| Nigga where that cake at? | |
| Murder all your artists | |
| And I, I, | |
| I can feel that love, but | |
| I feel that hate | |
| When I got that slug, | |
| I just feel so safe | |
| I put it to your mug, it ain' t gone wait | |
| It go away when that thing gone fly | |
| Got a little kick, but it ain' t no tire | |
| Niggas try murder, but they ain' t gone ride | |
| Let me go hard like | |
| I ain' t going to die | |
| Meek Mill! Verse 3 Big Sean | |
| Smoke until | |
| I got no lungs | |
| Got her going down, no teeth | |
| I call it " speaking tongues" | |
| Do it! Do it! | |
| Now you speaking my language | |
| From where they twist and talk with they fingers | |
| Man, but this ain' t no sign language | |
| Yes, fresh out of the ashes it' s a | |
| Detroit fucking classic | |
| From where | |
| MM got the masses, | |
| Trick Trick got them passes | |
| Bitch I' m from the | |
| Motor, Motor | |
| Yeah, that motor be the fastest | |
| Bitch, they call it | |
| Motor City | |
| Because you' re most likely to crash | |
| Fuck it! Good thing | |
| I got a chauffeur, chauffeur | |
| Going broke? | |
| No sir! Bitch | |
| I' m a rap game stylist, because | |
| I gave the rap game style, bitch | |
| But I over shine | |
| Ain' t no niggas over shine | |
| Told them " Roll up five quarters" so | |
| I guess we' re going overtime | |
| Till we dumb high, dumb high | |
| Westside, bitch, | |
| I run mine | |
| I' m rolling around in my old school, | |
| I feel like the alumni | |
| Fucking hoes, no strings attached | |
| So don' t ask me why they strung out | |
| I' m like Jordan to you niggas | |
| I might need to stick my tongue out | |
| She wiggled and wobble, bobbled | |
| Then land on my throttle | |
| Bitch, I might make you my baby | |
| And even buy you a bottle | |
| Your niggas don' t ask how the top feel | |
| When you keep them right beside you | |
| My pockets got paper on paper | |
| This shit just look like a novel | |
| Hundred thousand worth of ice on me now | |
| But it don' t feel half as good as | |
| Grandma say, and she proud Verse 4 Wale | |
| Forever dedicated, made my poetic genius | |
| Some think they close to seeing me | |
| Tell them they close to | |
| StevieYou poser niggas ain' t supposed to be here | |
| We don' t believe you | |
| Double MG, and we put a wreath on niggas' career | |
| We the best, | |
| KhaledNo need to stress, | |
| KhaledKnow there' s a lot of artists | |
| But I got the best palette | |
| Multiple colors, my mind is more productive than others | |
| Murray the winner, he think he really | |
| Nelson Mandela | |
| That' s fire though, one time for the 305, though | |
| That hydro make me tired, yo | |
| My kicking be so | |
| Tai Bo! My balance be so tight rope | |
| That' s hard to find, quick try flow | |
| Give up with me, that knife flow | |
| Hold over me, | |
| I' m maestro, shit | |
| That white whip sit | |
| Like a slight wrist slit | |
| Suicide shit, you can by shit, if you write this shit | |
| Nigga, and right this minute, they say | |
| I' m buzzing hard | |
| My driver' s out of this world, you playing bumper cars. | |
| You niggas under cause | |
| You should be unemployed | |
| All you smoke is | |
| Reggie, I' m in the tellie, bunch of noise | |
| Who gone tell me that | |
| I ain' t going, that | |
| I ain' t flowing? | |
| Young Folarin, you see them puters | |
| That was my influence Verse 5 Vado | |
| The towers fell | |
| Turn into | |
| Ground Zero | |
| Kissing like | |
| Reggie Jackson, | |
| Nicky Barnes, they hero | |
| As I play | |
| RothsteinCorleone like | |
| Rob De Niro | |
| Been through it, but here though | |
| Dope move in the weirdos | |
| Dress pimping the toast like let' s win | |
| Your house is on | |
| West and 4th pipes and | |
| Lex winWhile me in a | |
| Maserati bricking his best friends | |
| When I die, tell them to turn my coffin to stretch | |
| BenzRims on it, problems? | |
| My man' s on | |
| See him, we stomp him out | |
| His mouth, my | |
| Timbs' on it | |
| Only smoking a ounce, a mountain, no tens on it | |
| Spins on it, you have no cloud, the | |
| Benz on it | |
| What the fiends say? | |
| Few roses, you need spray, on tours, eat straight | |
| Making sure all your feet sprayed | |
| Get the pills through, peel through | |
| SRT8Trunk on, seats gray, drop tops like release dates | |
| Vado |
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