That Go! (feat. T-Shyne)

Ayy, Yung, but he got that talent Yo, Nick Papz, make it slap Verse 1: Meek Mill Yeah, this twenty a pill Ran up a check, get this Patek baguette, he made twenty more mill' Drop on the opp and then jump on the chopper and go to the Hills My youngin go Call of Duty with that chopper and he wanna kill Yeah, shitted on a nigga, did it on purpose I tell my other bitch, Go with my other bitch Just to get my other bitch a new Birkin Pretty white toes, pussy was perfect Fuck in the back of the 'Bach with the curtains Fuck from the back and this bitch started squirtin' No, you didn't get this shit on my Persian, ooh Go gеt this bitch some new purses, cool I swipе my card, I don't feel it She had a lame, she healin' Now she on a plane, she chillin' And she post a pic on the 'Gram, you feel it I know that nigga wanna kill her 'cause she in a villa, going H.A.M. with tequila Made it my plan to get richer, I pull up, I jump out the Lamb', me and Jigga, woah Chorus: T-Shyne & Meek Mill Woah, this that go shit Yeah Lil' bitch tryna act smart with me, but she don't know shit Yeah 7-Eleven, I bought all the Backwoods, sodas, and Trojans And Trojans It's like five hundred bitches at the crib, but we still lettin' more in Yeah, more in Woah, this that go shit That go shit This that stunt on them niggas, might put two watches on both wrists Let's go My trap boomin', these niggas out here ain't havin' no motion No motion Back in the day, we was hoppin' in whips and ridin' it stolen Stolen, skrrt Verse 2: T-Shyne Rolls-Royce truck with the freak of the week Chasin' her dreams, I'ma pass her to Meek To Meek Nigga, I'm a wolf, can't hang with the sheep Can't hang with the sheep Water on my neck, bought my chain at the beach Let's go Pull up to your block with a motherfuckin' thotty Let's go Every nigga with me down to go and catch a body Okay Young nigga trapping out a hotel lobby Okay Wipe a nigga nose like that motherfucker snotty I'm in the trap with a thick bitch Yeah, I used to hustle, had to risk it Yeah Most you niggas fried like a fish stick If he a snitch, can't kick it I'm with the gang and we deep Just like a dog, put a nigga to sleep Bad lil' bitch trying to see me on the sneak No TLC, but a nigga got to creep Woo Shoot it like JJ JJ Spin a nigga block like a Beyblade If I hit the block, that's a payday Hurricane AP, A Bay Bay A Bay Bay Made it my plan to get richer, I pull up, I jump out the Lamb', me and Thugger Slime Can't leave the crib with no cutter Feel like Ving Rhames, it's guns and butter Chorus: T-Shyne & Meek Mill Woah, this that go shit Yeah Lil' bitch tryna act smart with me, but she don't know shit Yeah 7-Eleven, I bought all the Backwoods, sodas, and Trojans And Trojans It's like five hundred bitches at the crib, but we still lettin' more in Yeah, more in Woah, this that go shit That go shit This that stunt on them niggas, might put two watches on both wrists Let's go My trap boomin', these niggas out here ain't havin' no motion No motion Back in the day, we was hoppin' in whips and ridin' it stolen Stolen, skrrt Verse 3: Young Thug Abracadabra, my bitch way badder, my wrist out the motherfuckin' batter Slatt Fish parquet I snuck on the face, green diamonds, I fucked up my bladder Yeah Motherfuck a trend, I been with my kids in the spot 'cause family matter On God Everything else you speakin' about might get your ass whooped like a paddle Slatt Yeah, yeah, fishscale Yeah, no scale, weigh it up Weigh it up I spent twenty mil' What on a crib, pay it up Pay it up In Dubai but the bitch from Israel Call my phone, you fine as hell In designer but I will kill You done speaked to informants, I can tell Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah Yeah My bitch wrist clean I flex, don't bend, I am the king The king Hundred bands can clean up the scene On God Had your wife and you thought it was a dream Nigga kicked through that door with the bling I took off in a foreign machine Sex Chorus: T-Shyne & Meek Mill Woah, this that go shit Yeah Lil' bitch tryna act smart with me, but she don't know shit Yeah 7-Eleven, I bought all the Backwoods, sodas, and Trojans Yeah It's like five hundred bitches at the crib, but we still lettin' more in Woah, this that go shit That go shit This that stunt on them niggas, might put two watches on both wrists Let's go My trap boomin', these niggas out here ain't havin' no motion No motion Back in the day, we was hoppin' in whips and ridin' it stolen Skrrt Outro: T-Shyne Big racks, spendin' big racks, that's big business Big business Pull up to the club with a pole on me, niggas thinkin' I'd been fishin' Been fishin' Find me on a yacht full of bad-ass bitches like, Ho, I'm big pimpin' Big pimpin'