The Plug Songtext
von Meek Mill feat. Omelly & Young Breed
The Plug Songtext
Word to my son man I don′t let them see the monster in me
Load my 30, leave the crib and bring that choppa with me
I run them streets and make it home soon as my momma hit me
Put my son to sleep and right back to the drama quickly
Papi said he got them bricks and we gon' take ′em down
I call Omelly bring them shooters, we gon' break it down
He said he coming and he coming in with 80 pound
We finna line a nigga up and we gon' take ′em down
"Hello" ("Dimelo?")
"Papi where you at?" ("Mi camino")
He said it′s in and I'm like Papi bring the set
He brought his shooter, I′mma 'prolly bring the MAC
I spent my money on a lawyer and it′s time to get it back
I got niggas in the bushes and they lurking
Young niggas barely legal but they murking
I hit them with the Desert Eagle and it's curtains
I′mma shoot him in his head cause I heard that nigga working
Riding four deep, on my way to Meek
Said he got a lick for us, know this nigga sweet
Said he got 80 jawns, who to call but me?
So I called my dogs, cause my dogs gotta eat
Let him off the leash now it's time to feast
Got McDonald's money but I′m tryna eat Philippe′s
Tired of all this drought shit, this broke shit ain't me
If this thing go right, it′s gon' put me on my feet, where I need to be
I ain′t lying Meek, this nigga move, I'm leaving him
I got some loose cannons and they all agreeing with me
Black glove, black hoodies, I brought the team with me
Black strap, MAC-10, brought the machines with me
Now we slidin′ down the North, to 23rd and Berks
Cause Papi he got that work
Young hitters they with me, they tryna murk
I just tell them "chill we gon' take him for what he worth"
Load up the AK and the mothafucka MAC-11
Hundred thangs to a dope boy, fucking blessing
Hit up Boobie told him "meet me on 183rd"
Funny how 187 get your boy hundred burst
Bang, Dade County niggas ain't a game
We call them sticks missed calls they gon′ let ′em ring
SK's I gotta grind every month nigga
My new shooter I ain′t prayed in a month nigga
Got the double, lit em all, you know I 'M′ once
Told them bring back all the paper in 10 tons
See all the boys selling dope just a day job
We dropping bodies how they really pay the bill boy
So papi how you want it? Body bag,?, keep it clean, let them live, bring back all the dope and cash?
Paper right, on sight, thats just how it go
Tell them how you want it papi
Matalo! (Kill it)
Load my 30, leave the crib and bring that choppa with me
I run them streets and make it home soon as my momma hit me
Put my son to sleep and right back to the drama quickly
Papi said he got them bricks and we gon' take ′em down
I call Omelly bring them shooters, we gon' break it down
He said he coming and he coming in with 80 pound
We finna line a nigga up and we gon' take ′em down
"Hello" ("Dimelo?")
"Papi where you at?" ("Mi camino")
He said it′s in and I'm like Papi bring the set
He brought his shooter, I′mma 'prolly bring the MAC
I spent my money on a lawyer and it′s time to get it back
I got niggas in the bushes and they lurking
Young niggas barely legal but they murking
I hit them with the Desert Eagle and it's curtains
I′mma shoot him in his head cause I heard that nigga working
Riding four deep, on my way to Meek
Said he got a lick for us, know this nigga sweet
Said he got 80 jawns, who to call but me?
So I called my dogs, cause my dogs gotta eat
Let him off the leash now it's time to feast
Got McDonald's money but I′m tryna eat Philippe′s
Tired of all this drought shit, this broke shit ain't me
If this thing go right, it′s gon' put me on my feet, where I need to be
I ain′t lying Meek, this nigga move, I'm leaving him
I got some loose cannons and they all agreeing with me
Black glove, black hoodies, I brought the team with me
Black strap, MAC-10, brought the machines with me
Now we slidin′ down the North, to 23rd and Berks
Cause Papi he got that work
Young hitters they with me, they tryna murk
I just tell them "chill we gon' take him for what he worth"
Load up the AK and the mothafucka MAC-11
Hundred thangs to a dope boy, fucking blessing
Hit up Boobie told him "meet me on 183rd"
Funny how 187 get your boy hundred burst
Bang, Dade County niggas ain't a game
We call them sticks missed calls they gon′ let ′em ring
SK's I gotta grind every month nigga
My new shooter I ain′t prayed in a month nigga
Got the double, lit em all, you know I 'M′ once
Told them bring back all the paper in 10 tons
See all the boys selling dope just a day job
We dropping bodies how they really pay the bill boy
So papi how you want it? Body bag,?, keep it clean, let them live, bring back all the dope and cash?
Paper right, on sight, thats just how it go
Tell them how you want it papi
Matalo! (Kill it)
Writer(s): Robert Williams, Jarrod Williams, Dwayne Richardson, A Parker Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
