Released: May 7, 2012
Featuring: Travis Scott
Songwriter: Travis Scott Meek Mill
Producer: Corporal Reginald “Regg” Smith
[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
Stepping off that Lear, diamonds on me so clear
Dime hoes that I share, y'all couldn't go near
I say, pussy nigga I dare, you try and reached and get aired
You fuck around and get checked, doctor pump your chest like clear
Yea my niggas ball all year, y'all niggas so square (lame)
And all my niggas so live, why the fuck would I care
When that Lambo flow by, y'all suckas gon' stare
And all them haters gon' hate, fuck them, 'cause all them hoes gon' cheer
Yeah my mic life and my bike life got a bad bitch and she tight and nice
'Cause I'm countin' green in my money machine, that bitch sound like I typewrite
Hustle hard in that daytime but I ball off in that night life
My chain lit with them black stones, but they shine hard as yo white ice
'Cause yo' shit fake and yo shit late, no birthday but I get cake
Lame nigga yo album ain't fucking with my mixtape
Nigga smoking that Cali kush, that shit strong no lift weights
I tell niggas don't watch me while time tick on that big face
[Chorus: Meek Mill]
Young nigga I get it, young nigga I get it
Neck full of that gold, gold Rollie go with it
Gold H on my belt, phone full of gold diggers
Sipping gold bottles of Spade, tell them hoes go figure
Young nigga I get it, young nigga I get it
Neck full of that gold, gold Rollie go with it
Gold H on my belt, phone full of gold diggers
Sipping gold bottles of Spade, tell them hoes go figure
[Verse 2: Travis Scott]
Wake me up and I'm snoring, choking over whole gang of chains
She slept over the morning, a nigga ain't good with this naming game
Ain't need you fucking me over, pyramids on my pinky ring
And we dipping out, she pulling in, I guess she get the hang of things
So what up (what up), I told her shut the fuck up
When I run my mouth diamonds falling out, I guess that bitch done nut up
Crazy thing about it, her best friend is riding shotty
I knocked her down in her 'Rari, then drove off on Ducatti
Holy mother Mary, guess who hitting my Berry
A pair of double D's, I guess she out in Paris
Damn Tony them cantaloupes, fuck about getting Mary
She said her ex was Larry, but fuck that nigga Larry
Damn this shit is scary, I thought I seen the fairy
Fucking with that white milk, just might call it dairy
Ride around just me and Meek, a couple dimes and that's 20
Sit behind while we pull around, we might blind with canaries
[Chorus: Meek Mill]
Young nigga I get it, young nigga I get it
Neck full of that gold, gold Rollie go with it
Gold H on my belt, phone full of gold diggers
Sipping gold bottles of Spade, tell them hoes go figure
Young nigga I get it, young nigga I get it
Neck full of that gold, gold Rollie go with it
Gold H on my belt, phone full of gold diggers
Sipping gold bottles of Spade, tell them hoes go figure
Stepping off that Lear, diamonds on me so clear
Dime hoes that I share, y'all couldn't go near
I say, pussy nigga I dare, you try and reached and get aired
You fuck around and get checked, doctor pump your chest like clear
Yea my niggas ball all year, y'all niggas so square (lame)
And all my niggas so live, why the fuck would I care
When that Lambo flow by, y'all suckas gon' stare
And all them haters gon' hate, fuck them, 'cause all them hoes gon' cheer
Yeah my mic life and my bike life got a bad bitch and she tight and nice
'Cause I'm countin' green in my money machine, that bitch sound like I typewrite
Hustle hard in that daytime but I ball off in that night life
My chain lit with them black stones, but they shine hard as yo white ice
'Cause yo' shit fake and yo shit late, no birthday but I get cake
Lame nigga yo album ain't fucking with my mixtape
Nigga smoking that Cali kush, that shit strong no lift weights
I tell niggas don't watch me while time tick on that big face
[Chorus: Meek Mill]
Young nigga I get it, young nigga I get it
Neck full of that gold, gold Rollie go with it
Gold H on my belt, phone full of gold diggers
Sipping gold bottles of Spade, tell them hoes go figure
Young nigga I get it, young nigga I get it
Neck full of that gold, gold Rollie go with it
Gold H on my belt, phone full of gold diggers
Sipping gold bottles of Spade, tell them hoes go figure
[Verse 2: Travis Scott]
Wake me up and I'm snoring, choking over whole gang of chains
She slept over the morning, a nigga ain't good with this naming game
Ain't need you fucking me over, pyramids on my pinky ring
And we dipping out, she pulling in, I guess she get the hang of things
So what up (what up), I told her shut the fuck up
When I run my mouth diamonds falling out, I guess that bitch done nut up
Crazy thing about it, her best friend is riding shotty
I knocked her down in her 'Rari, then drove off on Ducatti
Holy mother Mary, guess who hitting my Berry
A pair of double D's, I guess she out in Paris
Damn Tony them cantaloupes, fuck about getting Mary
She said her ex was Larry, but fuck that nigga Larry
Damn this shit is scary, I thought I seen the fairy
Fucking with that white milk, just might call it dairy
Ride around just me and Meek, a couple dimes and that's 20
Sit behind while we pull around, we might blind with canaries
[Chorus: Meek Mill]
Young nigga I get it, young nigga I get it
Neck full of that gold, gold Rollie go with it
Gold H on my belt, phone full of gold diggers
Sipping gold bottles of Spade, tell them hoes go figure
Young nigga I get it, young nigga I get it
Neck full of that gold, gold Rollie go with it
Gold H on my belt, phone full of gold diggers
Sipping gold bottles of Spade, tell them hoes go figure