Artist: Meek Mill f/ Jay-Z, Rick Ross
Album:  Championships
Song:   What's Free
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Intro: Meek Mill]
You know what free is, nigga?

[Chorus: Meek Mill]
What's free? Free is when nobody else could tell us what to be
Free is when the TV ain't controllin what we see
Told my niggaz "I need you"
Through all the fame, you know I stayed true
Pray my niggaz stay free
Made a few mistakes but this ain't where I wanna be
Before I'm judged by 12, put a 12 on my V
Told my niggaz "I need you"
Stay up, I know these times ain't true
Real life, what's free?

[Rick Ross]
Since a lad I was cunning, just got a pad out in London
I keep stackin my money, I'll need a ladder by summer
AK shots, niggaz duckin stray shots
Been a +Top Dawg+, that's before the K-Dots
Crackin in '06, immaculate showmanship
Talkin like you Mitch, disastrous on the strip
Holdin on your bitch, coulda never sold you a brick
With them people you never been on a list
Mona Lisa to me ain't nothin but a bitch
Hangin pictures like niggaz swingin from his dick
We so different, you thought these didn't exist
The Megalodon never seen on his wrist
I'm from the South where they never make it this rich
God is the greatest, but Satan been on his shit
Walkin the pavement, I pray I'm illuminated
Over a decade and never nobody's favorite
Pot and kilo go hand-in-hand like we Gamble and Huff
My amigo, a million grams and we countin 'em up
You was dead broke, I let you hold a pack
You paid for it but I fuck around and stole the track
Screamin "Gang gang," now you wanna rat
Racketeering charges caught him on a tap
Lookin for a bond, lawyers wanna tax
Purple hair got them faggots on your back {"M-M-Maybach Music"}

[Chorus]

[Meek Mill]
Yeah, Fed investigations, heard they plottin like I trap
20 mil' in cash, they know I got that off of rap
Maybe it's the Michael Rubins or the Robert Krafts
Or the billionaire from Marcy and the way they got my back, uh
See how I prevailed and now they try to knock me back, uh
Locked me in a cell for all them nights and I won't snap, uh
Two-fifty a show and they still think I'm sellin crack, uh
When you bring my name up to the judge just tell him facts
Tell him how we fundin all these kids to go to college
Tell him how we ceasin all these wars, stoppin violence
Tryna fix the system and the way that they designed it
I think they want me silenced (shush)
Oh say you can see, I don't feel like I'm free
Locked down in my cell, shackled from ankle to feet
Judge bangin that gavel, turned me to slave from a king
Another day in the bing, I gotta hang from a string
Just for poppin a wheelie, my people march through the city
From a cell to a chopper, view from the top of the city
You could tell how we rockin, soon as I pop up we litty
Poppin like Bad Boy in '94, Big Poppa and Diddy
And niggaz counted me out, like my accountant ain't busy
That's five milli' in twenties, sit up and count 'til I'm dizzy
Phantom 500 thousand, hundred round in a stizzy
Is we beefin or rappin? I might just pop up with Drizzy like

[Chorus]

[Jay-Z]
In the land of the free where the blacks enslaved
"Three-fifths of a man" I believe's the phrase
I'm 50% of D'USSÉ and it's debt-free (yeah)
100% of Ace of Spades, worth half a B, uh
Roc Nation, half of that, that's my piece
100% of TIDAL to bust it up with my G's, uh
Since most of my niggaz won't ever work together
You run a check up but they never give you leverage
No red hat, don't Michael and Prince me and 'Ye
They separate you when you got Michael and Prince's DNA, uh
I ain't one of these house niggaz you bought
My house like a resort, my house bigger than yours
My spou- (c'mon man) my route better, of course
We started without food in our mouth, they gave us pork
and pig intestines, shit you discarded that we ingested
We made the project a wave, you came back, reinvested
and gentrified it, took niggaz sense of pride, now how that's free?
And them people stole the soul and hit niggaz with 360s (huh)
I ain't got a billion streams, got a billion dollars
Inflatin numbers like we 'posed to be happy about this
We was praisin Billboard, but we were young
Now I look at Billboard like, "Is you dumb?"
To this day Grandma 'fraid what I might say
They gon' have to kill me Grandmama, I'm not they slave
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, check out the bizarre (ah)
Rappin style used by me, the H-O-V
Look at my hair free, carefree, niggaz ain't near free
Enjoy your chains, what's your employer name with the hairpiece?
I survived the hood, can't no Shaytan rob me
My accountant's so good I'm practically livin tax-free
Factory, that's me, sold drugs, got away scot-free
That's a CC, E-copy
Guilt free, still me
And expect me to not, feel a way, to this day, you would say y'all killed me
Sucker-free, no shuckin me, I don't jive turkey
Say "Happy Thanksgiving," shit sound like a murder to me
Smoke-free, all of y'all, callin out toll-free
Label rob you for millions yet you wanna put a hole in me
Sugar-free, seasoned but I'm salt-free
You lay a hand on Hov my shooters shoot for free, I promise World War Three
Send a order through a hands-free
Kill you in 24 hours or shorter, you can't ignore the hand speed
On god, it's off the head, this improv
But it's no comedy, sign I fail? Hell naw
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Hahahahahahahahaha!