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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