Future

I am the streets the future

I introduce you to Ace Hood Meek Mills

Big Sean Wale Vado this the future

They gettin' money they makin' hit records

They hustlin'

Okay now Khaled told me kill 'em

He just told me kill 'em

100 for the Beamer

Kudos for the dealer

Murder bet I wrote it

Kudos to the killer

Chevy sittin' crooked

Keep the Reggie Miller

I'm a motherf**kin' beast

See me in your sleep

Nightmare on any street

Swear I will mark any beat

Spread this to the industry

Lyrics like a chopper piece

Flow right through your fitted T

Pull this through with chemistry

Hottest ni**a 'round they saying

Greatness is my tendency

No such thing as sympathy

More money my remedy pockets on heavy D

B**ch I'm hot 3rd degree whip I drive Owned by me

Wrists in the air anti-freeze can it be

I'm who you dying to be'

Last of a dying breed I'm Siamese

Twin pistol shooter ni**a like a 7B

Big dog get it you still on your pedigree

Yeah fly ni**a with some stupid swag

Dead faces keep my money in the body bag

And the G-U-T-T-A hop in the whip and I gotta get paid

F**k them b**ches ain't trying to get laid

Walk in my house you can meet my maid

And you give a damn you can push that Lac

Push that Benz on push that lade hop to the whip no top on mine

Niggas gonna hate man f**k them guys

Real ni**a sh*t don't tell no lie

what I resign

your house about to sign

We the motherf**king best

Word to my mama

Wild presidential got me feeling like Obama

All I want is change

And my niggas they wanted the same

I wanted the money

And never the fame

I turned into something they never became

Through all the rain I kept my flame

And I kept burning and it's my turn and

Real ni**a my hood confirm it

Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains

And that Maybach let me take em way back

When I was starving that was payback

Ni**a where that cake at

I want y'all to see now

I feel that love I feel that hate

I put it to your mug you gonna faint

When that thing gonna fly

Got a little kick but it ain't no tire

Niggas talk murder but they ain't gonna ride

Let me go hard like I ain't gonna die

Meek Mill

Do it OK

Smoke until I ain't got no lungs

Got it going down no teeth

I call it "speaking tongues"

Do it Do it

Now you speaking my language

When they twist and talk with they fingers

Man this ain't no sign language

Fresh out of the ashes it's a

Detroit f**king classic from when

MM got the masses Trick Trick got them passes

B**ch I'm from the Motor Motor

Yeah that motor be the fastest

B**ch they call it Motor City

Cause I'm most likely to crash

F**k it Good thing I got a chauffeur

Going broke No sir

B**ch I'm a rap game stylist because I gave the rap game style B**ch

But I overshine

Told em it's the quarter so I guess

We're going overtime Dumb high dumb high

Westside b**ch I run mine

I'm rolling around in my old school I feel like the alumni

F**king hoes no strings attached

So don't ask me why they strung out

I'm like Jordan to you niggas

I might need to stick my tongue out

She wiggled and wobble/bobbled

Then landed on my throttle

B**ch I might make you my baby

And even buy you a bottle

That's how they talk to you

people like Versace

My pockets got paper on paper

This sh*t just look like a novel

100 thousand worth of ice on me now

But it don't feel half as good

As grandma saying she's proud

Forever dedicated my poetic genius

Something they close to seeing

Tell em they close they scheming

You poser niggas ain't supposed to be here

We don't believe ya Y'all run them

We put a wreath on niggas' careers

We the best Khaled

No need to stress Khaled

Know there's a lot of artists

But I got the best palette

Multiple colors my mind's more productive than others

Murray the winner you think he really

Nelson Mandela

That's fire though One time for the 305 though

That hydro make me tired yo

My kicking be so Tai Bo

My balance be so tight rope

That's hard to find

Hold the dough for me I'm maestro sh*t

That white whip sh*t

On the side wrists slit

Suicide sh*t you can by sh*t if you write this sh*t

Right this minute they say I'm buzzing hard

My driver's out of this world you playing

Bumper cars You niggas under cause

You should be unemployed

making a bunch of noise

Who gonna tell me that I ain't going

Young Folarin you see them puters

That was my influence

The twin towers fell

Turning to Ground Zero

Kicking like Reggie Jackson Nicki Barnes

Their hero as I play

Corleone like Bob De Niro

Been through it here though

Don't move with the weirdos

Dress pimping like

Your house is on West and 4th

Mine is on West 6th

While I ride this Maserati