Maybach Drip lyrics

by

T-Pain


[Intro: Meek Mill & Lil Juice]
Eastside to the westside sh*t
You already know how we carryin' it
(Maybach Music)
Salute
Tay Keith, f*ck these n*ggas up!
Yeah

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
My young n*gga, he low, ain't got no Instagram
But he do them wackies for the fifty bands
Fear nothing, redrum and that's on any man
We like dough boy, we gon' smoke boy, out that minivan (Woah)
Rocking Off-White on my off-night
n*ggas swing a punch, it be a lost life
Told my dawg to put that TEC up, that don't spark right
Money dancing at the clearport, this a boss life
When I be on the West, I know some real Crips
Going platinum with them choppas, making real hits
I done lost so many homies, I can't feel sh*t
So I been jumping out that chopper like I'm Will Smith
Her ass fake but she a real b*tch
Suck me super good and she ain't hard to deal with
And she don't post me either, she be on some chill sh*t
And she know if she f*ck a lame, I cut her real quick
Gang
[Chorus: Meek Mill]
Cut that b*tch off (Cut that b*tch)
If she ain't a dime, she make my di*k soft (f*ck that b*tch)
Rocking the Saint Laurent, we having a drip off (Let it drip)
n*gga, I've been ballin' since the tip off (Tip off, woah)

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
G5, I got a set of twin b*tches
Me and Diddy, money not a big difference (Haha)
Crib on a lake, and it's so remote
Half a brick in the Wraith, smoking on the roach
I got sliders that will hit you for a stack
Walk up on you, strike you like you was a match
Walk you in a dome, and I can't hide a patch
You was innocent but you was running with a rat (Ha)
I got a two door with the Fendi seats
Two Cuban links, I'm living big as Meech
I'm moving kilos like they funnel cakes
Got me on a record, patience, screaming "Andele"
Went from sleeping on a floor, feeling hunger pains
Try to keep up with your boy, I've seen a hundred things
Hundred karats on my neck, look like a hundred chains
All these pussies getting wet, they think that I'm to blame
Gang

[Chorus: Meek Mill]
Cut that b*tch off (Cut that b*tch)
If she ain't a dime, she make my di*k soft (f*ck that b*tch)
Rocking the Saint Laurent, we having a drip off (Let it drip)
n*gga, I've been ballin' since the tip off (Tip off, woah)
[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Gold presidential when I'm on the clock
Twenty old schools when I'm on the block
I got the baddest b*tches, ain't know who to watch
If she post another n*gga, I'ma cut her off
Money on the table, when I want to talk
n*gga think I'm Ronald Reagan, the way I want to walk
Quick to drop them bombs like I'm Gorbatschow
And I got the baddest b*tches rocking Polo, Ralph
Woah

[Chorus: Meek Mill]
Cut that b*tch off (Cut that b*tch)
If she ain't a dime, she make my di*k soft (f*ck that b*tch)
Rocking the Saint Laurent, we having a drip off (Let it drip)
n*gga, I've been ballin' since the tip off (Tip off, woah)
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