[Intro: Meek Mill]
The world is yours and everything in it
You gonna go get it?

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
Mama couldn't save me, daddy dead so he couldn't raise me
I'm still tripping off them hoes that played me
Same bitches fronting on me when I had my baby
It's crazy, and n***as say they made me
Taking credit from my mama, shit amaze me
How n***as talking down when I'm not around
But every time I'm in the building, shhh, not a sound
I line my haters up and clap them down
That choppa have n***a dancing like he Bobby Brown
I'm well-respected in my city, even out of town
And don't ever tuck my chain
N***a, how that sound? How that look?
We don't live by the book, we just live by the code
A lot of n***as got exposed when feds came through
They was dropping names too
N***as say I changed up but I'm with the same crew
I was always told to get the money and remain you
Never let these pussy n***as tell you what you can't do
Every time they said that I left, that was when I came through
Range new, .38 special when the flame blue
Just in case I gotta flame you
What a feeling when them people tryna frame you
Lock you in a cell when detain you
Rather die before I go out working like I'm Django
I'm gone...
[Chorus: French Montana]
N***as want me dead, everyday that I wake up
Fuck you talking ‘bout, you ain’t talking paper
And here's another one, here's another one
Streets watching
A new bitch, a new car
Her ass soft, I go hard
And here's another one, here's another one
Streets watching

[Verse 2: Meek Mill]
If I fuck her, I'm brainless
She fuck me, she might get famous
She might get a chance to ride jet and drive Ranges
Money'll have your closest friends turning into strangers
That's dangerous, n***as shoot and they'll aim at us
Shooting in the sky, you tryna hit the angels up
N***as tripping like y'all dipping off angel dust
And all these Cubans 'round my neck getting tangled up
I only fuck with bad bitches that be trained to fuck
Five n***as, ten bitches run a train on us
Looking at these rap n***as they all lame as fuck
Mini skirts, skinny jeans with the strangest cuts
I stick to the script, switch like stick on the shift
Early mornings in the kitchen like I'm whippin' the grits
N***a, I could score your bitch with a flick of the wrist
Swear that Audemar flashlight like I'm flicking a pic
[Chorus: French Montana]
N***as want me dead, everyday that I wake up
Fuck you talking ‘bout, you ain’t talking paper
And here's another one, here's another one
Streets watching
A new bitch, a new car
Her ass soft, I go hard
And here's another one, here's another one
Streets watching