All I wanted was a new Mercedes
Bending off the corner whipping out the lot, I got it
Women love me but the niggas hate it
But how can I lose when I came from the bottom?
Lord knows
Nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows
Nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows
Nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows

Meek Mill Money Don't Make You Real
Money Don't Make You Real Meek Mill

Verse 1: Meek Mill

They don’t make or install the wind turbines. They rely on big engineering companies to do that. In Europe and much of the world the two dominant players are the Danish company Vestas and the German-Spanish firm Siemens-Gamesa (Siemens has the larger shareholding). However, it does show the 29-year-old telling the man to do pushups for $20. “We ain’t going to give out no free money,” Meek Mill can be heard saying in the video, which was still on the rapper’s Instagram account early Saturday evening. “You’re not going to give me $20,” the man tells Meek Mill and his friends, seemingly in. What Meek Mill was saying in those tweets was simple: “Drake, I don’t believe you’re real,” an insult that, if you believe yourself to be real, is a death blow.

Uh, Lord knows I’m filthy rich
All this ice is like 50 bricks
Rap niggas throwing hissy fits
I give my bitch a stack just for a Christmas gift
And my bitch so bad, she on my Christmas list
‘Member I prayed, really I wished for this
To get the crib with the maid and with the picket fence
I’m with some niggas that mad, we taking risks for this
I’m talking risky business, flick the wrist
Lord knows that I repent for this
But Lord knows if I get penned for this
I prolly won’t get home until I’m 56
They say I’m the Messiah, you rappers is liars
I sign up at church just to rap at the choir
To spit my new verse at your wake while you’re lying
The middle of the church have you wake, no I’m lying
I just came from jail, ain’t do no crying
They put me through hell, sharpened my iron
I did my push-ups and I roared with the lions
Like hold up, from balling I’m tired
I’m back in this bitch and I’m back on my shit
Man they tell me be humble, I’m cocky as hell
Shout out my bitches that answered my calls
When I called you collect cause it got me through hell
Shout out that judge that denied me my bail
It made me smarter and made me go harder
They locked me up and slowed my album up
But I did not give up cause I knew I would prevail
Came in the game, Philly as shit
Look at these rappers, they silly as shit
I do not know why they be gassing these suckers
But fuck ’em cause I am not feeling their shit
Difference between me and most of these rappers
I’m talking about work that I really put in
Talking about pistols I put on my hip
And I’m talking about foreigns I really could whip
That I really done drove
Really was froze in my hood and these bitches I really did hit
Really was chose, came up from nothing
And now they like, “How he made millions so quick?”
I’m in the back and it feel like a sofa
I done seen bitches I’m fuckin’ on Oprah
In my new mansion I feel like I’m Sosa
A brick on the table ain’t sniffing no coca, no way

All I wanted was a new Mercedes
Bending off the corner, whipping out the lot, I got it
Women love me but the niggas hate it
But how can I lose when I came from the bottom?
Lord knows
Nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows
Nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows
Nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows

Verse 2: Meek Mill

Uh, niggas can’t see me with binoculars on
Back of the Maybach, shottas on
And all my niggas keep choppers on
Don’t reach round me, that’s a chopper zone
Every time you be on count, what the topic on?
250 thou what I dropped it on
See y’all think it’s a game ’til FOX be on
CNN, momma picking out boxes for ’em
I want everything, got my own boxers on
Own headphones to get my popping on
I got my own Pumas that I designed ’em for ’em
Stick and moving on these niggas, get my boxing on
All I ever hear from niggas is what they prolly doing
But they be really talkin’ ’bout what I be doing
All black Rottweiler, that Givenchy on
Drop top Rolls Royce but the top is on
And the windows down like see y’all later
Mirror tint on that bitch so you could see y’all hating
Champagne cork pop like we all made it
Ya’ll looking from the sideline we all hate it
Money don’t make it real
Don’t give a fuck if its 80 mil, pussy
And just cause you got a Bentley
That Bentley won’t make you thorough, pussy
Still hating me from my city
I’m thinking is they for real, pussies
Cause all I got to say is kill
They’ll come in like Navy Seals
That’s word to my momma, I promise I ain’t doing no block
And we shoot at you robbers and kill all you fuck niggas talking
Lately I’ve been on this money
Don’t run it back up just to come and put you in a coffin
I heard you said you was running this city
I seen you in traffic and you was just walking
Niggas be popping that shit like they with it
When niggas start hitting all you did was talk it, you pussy

Meek Mill Money Don't Make You Real

Money Don't Make You Real Meek Mill

Une erreur dans nos lyrics, proposez-nous une correction :
Participez et envoyez nous un nouveau lyrics :