Chiraq Lyrics - Meek Mill

You fuck around get smoked 

You fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around, get smoked, nigga 

You fuck around get smoked 

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Uh, niggas know the rules in my hood, if you touch me, you get murked 

We ain't with that back and forth, it ain't no rap, we hittin' first 

G-5, we be at LIV by Sunday when you in the Church 

Momma stresses, selling dinner platers, tryna get your casket, and get ya hearse 

Last nigga that slid on us, got dropped on it, he told on us 

Every nigga you see with me got ice on 'em, bank rolls on us 

Naw, nigga no 1 on 1's we don't fight fair, we just roll on 'em 

V-S stones and cuban linx, all that ice wear with that gold on 'em 

We ain't swinging no flag, nigga 

We ain't need no pass, nigga 

Glock 40 with a 30 clip and laser on it, play tag with us 

Everybody wanna talk bricks 'till them feds, swoop in and grab niggas 

Dream chasers got into something, we don't never bleak cause we trash niggas 

I don't know if y'all heard about my homie doing that 30 out 

Deen Buck still in the cut and stay fittin' to let Ernie out 

I ain't even gotta say nothin' 'bout that other homie that you heard about 

Cause if he heard about the truth, run your mouth 

He come to your house and start swervin' out 

Catch me in Y-C, out Shadyville, I'm in the tank 

Only time this Manhattan when I'm in the booth or I'm in the bank 

Summertime in La Marina with Dominicans going in the paint 

Photos 

Pullin' up screamin' Dimelo catch you in Brooklyn, get pita rolled puss! 

You fuck around get smoked 

You fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around, get smoked, nigga 

You fuck around get smoked