Artist: Meek Mill f/ French Montana Album: Dreamchasers 3 Song: My Life Typed by: Cedmaster3K [Intro: Meek Mill] The world is yours and everything in it You gonna go get it? [Meek Mill] Uhh, mama couldn't save me Daddy dead so he couldn't raise me I'm still trippin' off them hoes that played me Same bitches frontin' on me when I had my baby It's crazy, and niggas say they made me Takin' credit from my mama, shit amaze me How niggas talkin' 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 a nigga dancin' like he Bobby Brown I'm well respected in my city, even out of town And don't ever tuck my chain, nigga, how that sound? How that look? We don't live by the book We just live by the code; a lot of niggas got exposed when feds came through, they was droppin' names too Niggas 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 niggas 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 blew 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 workin' like I'm Django I'm gone... [Chorus: French Montana] HAH! Ooohh Niggas want me dead everyday that I wake up (wake up) Fuck you talkin' ‘bout? You ain’t talkin' paper (paper) And here's another one (here's another one) Here's another one (here's another one) - streets watchin' (HAH!) A new bitch, a new car (HAH!) Her ass soft, I go hard (HAH!) And here's another one (here's another one) Here's another one (here's one another) - streets watchin' (ooohh) [Meek Mill] Hah, here's another one... 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 turnin' into strangers That's danger-ous, niggas shoot and they'll aim at us Shootin' in the sky, you tryna hit the angels up Niggas trippin' like y'all dippin' off angel dust And all these cubans 'round my neck gettin' tangled up I only fuck with bad bitches that be trained to fuck Five niggas, ten bitches run a train on us Lookin' at these rap niggas 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 Nigga, I could score your bitch with a flick of the wrist I swear that Audemar flash light like I'm flickin' a pic [Chorus]