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B Boy Lyrics - Meek Mill Ft Big Sean & A$AP Ferg

Big Sean & A$AP Ferg B Boy Lyrics - Meek Mill
















[Verse 2: Big Sean]
Okay, I walk with a limp and I talk with a slur
I might wear every single chain and mix it up with my fur
I might get every single drink and mix it up til I blur
I tell the bitch get on my lap, but don't you get on my nerves
I need that bag full of green like I lawnmow it
John Doe and all Sean Doe it
And I keep it G, yeah, I ground floor it
And I'm pound blowin'
If her pussy good then I might one, two, three, round four it
Got her down for it
Yeah, nigga overthink, never under stress
Yeah, I understand, your girl over, I'm so unimpressed
Yeah, and she tryna fuck me raw, unprotect
But if I don't have that rubber on it I feel under dressed
Yeah, and I got money bags under my eyes, ho, cause I ain't sleep
They all Goyard too cause I ain't cheap
Finally Famous Aura Gold is my I-N-C
And I put everything in motion like I-N-G
And when we flyin' private you could bring the gun on with us
I got this freak to 3rd base, she tryna run home with us
And I got comma on comma on comma on comma... on comma
And I ain't talking about no run on sentence
Yeah, nigga hot headed so I need that Chings Chili
Put my P up on her head like that bitch is reppin' Philly
And I wheelie in that pussy like my nigga Meek Milly
On my way to meet millis
Lawyer drafting up the deep deep dealies
I got rich decided that ain't rich enough
When I did it big, bitch, I decided that ain't big enough
Dead Pres, who you diggin up?
Who that nigga that you hating on, but just can't get enough?
Fuck, the jig is up, little bitch

[Verse 3: A$AP Ferg]
I'm like Madoff but I made off, scheming on niggas' payoff
I never take a day off, your stash is short like Adolf, Hitler
You should lay off on the gangsta talk cause you're fake, dog
You never pushed no yay, dawg, ain't see no keys like Ray Charles
Me and Meek in the Maybach, we get Wale and take off
We got your bitch in a big house, she walk in hype like "Hey, Ross, how you doing?"
Get with a dreamchaser, we ballin' hard like the Lakers
You ballin' out, you a faker, you prolly catchin' the vapors
I'm at your house on the hill, I fucked your girl and your neighbor
You thinkin' Khloe don't know me, I'm in the car dashin' haters
I'm in the Kardashian, get it? I'm lyin', can't I pretend?
They say fake it 'til you make it, well, let the fakin' begin
I got a bitch with fake titties, fake ass, she all in the Benz
Them titties'll prolly fall like a ball when she bend
My niggas from Harlem and Philly all get it in
Your bitch come around then we fuckin' her and her friends
Come get with a dreamchaser, we ballin' hard like the Lakers
You ballin' out, you a faker, you prolly catchin' the vapors
Come get with a dreamchaser, we ballin' hard like the Lakers
You ballin' out, you a faker, you prolly catchin' the vapors
I'm at your house on the hill, I fucked your girl and your neighbor
I'm at your house on the hill, I fucked your girl and your neighbor
I'm at your house on the hill, I fucked your girl and your neighbor
I'm at your house on the hill, I fucked your girl and your neighbor, damn!

[Outro: Meek Mill]
What she do?
She, just, put heart eyes under my pic nigga
That's my bitch nigga
Bought her a first class ticket to put the dick in her
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