Songwriter: Meek Mill
[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
Hate is my motivator, wrists on refrigerator
Money participator, got power like generators
Look what my wrist done made us, wholesale like liquidators
Shout out my imitators, fuck how I am a flamer
I'm all of that, fuck them hoes, don't call 'em back
You on it but we off of that
Get paper, just like office max
Shittin' on these niggas, where the fuck they put my toilet at?
Obama on my wrist, presidential bitch
In the back of the 'bach, smokin' some presidential shit
And I'm strapped with the mack, on some residential shit
And if your homie think he tough, I get him presidential hit
I got 20 in the stash, for a nigga ass
Take [?] to the front when I hear he didn't cause [?]
Let me cut my lawn, snakes up in the grass
Nigga I'm a king and you a pawn so do the math
They be throwing shots, they ain't hit me yet
Talking they gon kill me, they ain't did it yet
I say when my shooters shoot it, it bet in the neck
So if you want to gamble with your life then it's a bet
Yes, cause I be all up on it, I'm dawning
Up early in the morning, make money while you yawning
If she want to fuck me tell that ho make an appointment
Cause I spend all my time up on that grind, that ain't important
Bout my dollar sign, take em back to school and I'm the Columbine
Went to jail, came back, went to jail, came back again
City in the chicken wing, just like Bobby [?]
Catch me in the Cadillac, me and Charlie, Mac, and them
Chasing down the Benjamins, we catch em we gon tackle them
I came from the hood, went to Hollywood
Jumped up out the Bent' on the red carpet like what's good
Meet my nigga Jigga, fresh from out the mud
Fresh from out the set I'm screaming free my nigga Bud
Rest In Peace to Dolla, homie you a coward
Shot at my nigga Dream, I bang on you, Dwight Howard
If I ever get a chance, standing in my stance
That's why I'm shooting first, hater will fuck up your whole plans
Take me back to jail, sit me in a cell before a coffin full of nails
Fuck her then I'm well
I'm from Philadelphia niggas will crack your bell
They try to hit you first, you hit them though they tell
But I came to get it jumping like a kangaroo
What else I came to do (shit on the whole industry)
Hate is my motivator, wrists on refrigerator
Money participator, got power like generators
Look what my wrist done made us, wholesale like liquidators
Shout out my imitators, fuck how I am a flamer
I'm all of that, fuck them hoes, don't call 'em back
You on it but we off of that
Get paper, just like office max
Shittin' on these niggas, where the fuck they put my toilet at?
Obama on my wrist, presidential bitch
In the back of the 'bach, smokin' some presidential shit
And I'm strapped with the mack, on some residential shit
And if your homie think he tough, I get him presidential hit
I got 20 in the stash, for a nigga ass
Take [?] to the front when I hear he didn't cause [?]
Let me cut my lawn, snakes up in the grass
Nigga I'm a king and you a pawn so do the math
They be throwing shots, they ain't hit me yet
Talking they gon kill me, they ain't did it yet
I say when my shooters shoot it, it bet in the neck
So if you want to gamble with your life then it's a bet
Yes, cause I be all up on it, I'm dawning
Up early in the morning, make money while you yawning
If she want to fuck me tell that ho make an appointment
Cause I spend all my time up on that grind, that ain't important
Bout my dollar sign, take em back to school and I'm the Columbine
Went to jail, came back, went to jail, came back again
City in the chicken wing, just like Bobby [?]
Catch me in the Cadillac, me and Charlie, Mac, and them
Chasing down the Benjamins, we catch em we gon tackle them
I came from the hood, went to Hollywood
Jumped up out the Bent' on the red carpet like what's good
Meet my nigga Jigga, fresh from out the mud
Fresh from out the set I'm screaming free my nigga Bud
Rest In Peace to Dolla, homie you a coward
Shot at my nigga Dream, I bang on you, Dwight Howard
If I ever get a chance, standing in my stance
That's why I'm shooting first, hater will fuck up your whole plans
Take me back to jail, sit me in a cell before a coffin full of nails
Fuck her then I'm well
I'm from Philadelphia niggas will crack your bell
They try to hit you first, you hit them though they tell
But I came to get it jumping like a kangaroo
What else I came to do (shit on the whole industry)
Flamers 3: The Wait Is Over
- Rosé Red
- I’m Clean
- Money Like A Mothafucker
- Here We Go Again
- All Good A Week Ago
- Flamers 3 Skit #2
- Philadelphia Born and Raised
- Flamers 3 Skit #3
- Playing With Fire
- It Takes Two
- I’m Killin’ Em
- Gimme More (Outro)
- Flamers 3: The Real
- I Be Gettin’ Money
- Swagga Surfin’
- 40 On My Hip
- They Don’t Care
- Shit On The Industry
- Make Em’ Say
- I Want ’Em All
- Flamers 3: The Wait Is Over Album Art
- Wait is Over
- Flamers 3 Intro
- I’m Tryna
- Be Alright
- Flamers 3 Skit #1
- So Fly
- Flamers 3: The Wait Is Over (2010)