Dame Taylor - Worst Nightmare (Meek Mill Diss) lyrics

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Dame Taylor - Worst Nightmare (Meek Mill Diss) lyrics

[Intro] Glide like Clyde, ballin like the lakers, 2Pac back The sh** done got real disrespectful my n***a Time to get checked homes Chubby larsiny Fam Peta [Verse] You say I'm trash better hold up Meek You ain't know that I got sh** sold up Meek My mask on I hold the heat then blast home you get rolled up Meek Come to my hood you a fold up Meek f** around make a n***a blow up Meek Put a hole in your body finna throw up Meek Got the whole hood saying they tore up Meek The big homie said put the dough up Meek Fake a** buss better slow up Meek Young a** rap better grow up Meek The cash ain't there I'mma show up Meek I don't give a f** about your bread homes We live for this you dead home Just got off that worldstar them gds on your head homes I heard what you said homes Tell the truth that sh** wack Instagram is a motherf**er Your babby mama that b**h fat I'm saying that b**h Chubby, you say that b**h stack If you saying that b**h bad she bald head and that b**h black Kick back cuz one day you gon see me one day That sh** gon go one way g-unit on gunplay All my n***as straight creezy balling out like I ate wheaties I can't give your state props cuz they put on this fake Peedi All I know is family first make cash and my state need me Pay a cheep fee to Young Kiki and that's real talk you get scapped easy sh** sound like you lost n***a Get robbed if you floss n***a You work, but you ain't no boss n***a Yeah its f** you and your boss n***a Red dot get off n***a Head shot get tossed n***a When I shoot I'm all on Any day I've been off n***a sh** sound like you soft n***a Jack and Penny we working home b**h a** in my hood get banged on like Perkins homes Your favorite b**h I beat it Meek Didn't even have to eat it Meek Her eyes closed her mouth open I f**ed around and just skeeted Meek 3 millions downloads and 250 on sales Now I ain't saying im a brainiac but that sh** sounds like you cheated Meek Look round, hood n***as, bad b**hes, kush round Stand up get pushed down and that fake chain will get took now Your whole squad will get shook down That mad cash I bust down Leg bust hope they give you that heads up Duck down, clap quick bust rounds Get merked when you touch town Big spin fly them birds like pig skin touchdown Yup I got some goonies that's bout to get out of pocket On you James harden way that cali boy that will turn a rocket on ya Yeah I put money on your head make a deposit on ya Pause Frank Ocean how n***as come out the closet on ya They f**ed around and put a man against a baby n***a Been up in your crib the sh** was trash you f**ing crazy n***a Yeah you must hate me n***a stupid flow dummy time Put another 10 up on Snupe and that money mine He gon go to rest n***a k** nothing less n***a You a f**ing club rapper a Tyga at best n***a See this sh** on twitter homes you handle sh** the gay way I know why n***as acting b**h you look just like Shenaenae Or better yet RG3 the crackhead version We working homes even the crack heads serving I got that A1 the sh** that got the crackheads jerking Getting that wet off I swear I got the crack heads surfing My n***as you trash Snupe trash, Louie trash, Omeli too The next sh** gon be trash homes, same outcome of belly 2 The f** you gon be rapping bout Phantom whips and Ghosts n***a Beat em when we see yeah we delete em like Hostess n***a You probably thinking you the best stay focused n***a Numbers don't lie and in Philly you not the dopest n***a You garbage, you trash Meek, you past tence, you last week Your boss man is trash meat you need your f**ing a** beat I be where they clapping at come around I saved the gun Finally got respect for Rick his fat a** done saved a bum All my n***as with the business tell em come and beat the office Go and get boss mans cuz bosses only speak to bosses Chubby [Outro] Yeah I was with my n***a Kiki smoking on that kiki n***a told me that you was scared to come to Compton and get in that YG video b**h a** n***a but you a G though right? f** out of here n***a Ha I go everywhere ask Rell I've been in your house f*g a** n***a We own your head out here n***a Larsiny Flyest fat n***a you know Flat top gold chains n***a f** you and your squad You know I am n***a you've seen me don't lie Them numbers don't lie either you ain't the best n***a You know what I'm saying little short tooth son It's all good, you the weakest out of all the new n***as We all know your bum a** yup Chubby And by the way stop wearing that small leather jacket n***a And stop talking bout the Lakers n***a talk about the Sixers n***a That's my city n***a we out