The Motto Lyrics - Maybach Milly 3 - Meek Mill

[Verse 1: Meek Mill] 

Bottle after bottle, model after model 

Spending all this paper like I fucking hit the lotto 

All I know is YOLO, nigga, that's the motto 

Ricky told me, "Get em," and I told him that I got 'em 

And I got 'em every day, every day 

Bad bitch and she gon fuck me every way, never stay 

Once I hit it, then I'm dipping that-a-way, that-a-way 

Young nigga from the bottom and I never had a way 

I really went from whipping 62's to whipping 62's 

Ain't none of my niggas Crip, and we giving niggas the blues 

We buying they hoes bags, getting they bitches shoes 

You wondering why she ain't fucking, we winning, nigga you lose 

Yeah, I'm flexing 

I pull up in a Ghost, hundred on my necklace 

And all my diamonds clear, they VVS'ing 

I turn into a toilet on these niggas, they BS-ing 

Two fingers, did it on 'em 

Hold up, I really shitted on 'em 

I dropped Dreamchaser and I made a milli on 'em 

It don't matter what city I'm in, I'm going Philly in 'em 

With my red P hat, nigga you know we back 

I'm going to Houston, I heard that's where they cheap at 

I done put them Percs down, think I'm 'bout to relapse 

Just to give her dope dick and ask her for some feedback 

Like "Shorty, do you love this dick? 

You know who you fucking with?" 

Grab her by her weave, smack her ass like you fucking bitch 

Don't I talk nasty, she don't know my government 

But she gon' get this dick and chew me up just like some Double Mint 

Check me I be jumping out the coupe, swagger through the roof 

Bad bitches waving at me, real niggas salute 

I ain't gotta lie, they know I'm the truth 

And I ain't gotta say I'm fly, this G5 with the crew 

I'm in the air bitch, diamonds clear bitch 

Took off my Rollie and got on some Audemeer shit 

I hear these haters talking, but I don't hear shit 

'Cause we get them bricks and stack them up just like a pyramid 

Y'all niggas talk like bitches do 

Same niggas in the district giving interviews 

I got killers on my team that'll get at you 

For a brick or two, really put an end to you 

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[Verse 2: Wale] 

(?) 

Black (?), sag jean sitting - low 

Effortless flow, a couple sum'n a show 

Youngin is 21, we playing (?) 

Probably fuck up your budget, yea, I'm playing with numbers 

Put that shit on whatever, we running another summer 

Liquor, lot of bottles, tab - you know I got it 

Spend a night up at Diamonds, ain't tricking it you got it 

Designer shit, though I'm modest, astonishing to be honest 

Obama shit on my arm, a presidential, you got it? 

Get your revenue popping before you ever do talk on them 

Niggas who work too hard to not show it off via flossing 

Double M G harder than anything that you part of 

This professional ball, the best you niggas is (?) 

Yea I'm on that ball shit, boy you with that soft shit 

'Fore he hit the room, hear a "Vroom!" from the Porsche bitch 

"On that Yamaha, pardon me, that's Meek and them" 

She say she is not a groupie, "I just wanna speak to them!" 

You lying though, you trying to go 

Apply smoke and watch the motherfucking pride go 

These little bitches is little bitches, we never love 'em 

To all the sisters with ambition, I see your hustle 

I'm trying to go though, y'all already know though 

Stepping on 'em, they slept on us, (?) 

Whoever want it, they better note that I'm so focused 

A message to my opponent: they better off trying to clone us 

Keep her in Chanel while your bitch is like an L 

When she out, you (?), all she need is like an L 

That's why I never trust a ho, no never me 

I just wanna get some head, maybe ass 'fore I leave 

Fuck a beef, keep it moving, she easily influenced 

You niggas keep sleeping, you gon' need to meet (Cuba?) 

I can't stand no motherfucking Hoover 

I'ma keep the reefer, you can have the hookah 

Versace, Medusa, I probably, abuse it 

Around me, my crew, your bitch probably throw two up 

Party with bitches that throw parties too much 

We skip right to fucking, they call you that (?) 

And what - deuce up 

Out 

Photos