Off the Corner (feat. Rick Ross)

M-m-m-m-a
No, no, no, no, no, no
These hoes, they like niggas that spend money, not talk about it
If you ain’t gonna get the money then watcha gonna do?
Hey!

[Meek Mill]
I graduated from the streets, no diploma
I made a million on that corner
I mixed pedico with baking soda
I made a million on that corner
Going Donald Trump numbers on the corner
I made a million on that corner
Graduated from the streets, no diploma

I made a million on that corner
I made a million on that, I made a million on that
I made a million on that corner

[Meek Mill]
Young rich nigga, I flex, look at my neck
Look at my bitch, look at my wrist, got these niggas upset
Who you know blow a mill? Don’t even think twice, no sweat
And these hoes around me?
You don’t fuck, you don’t give them no check
Cause ya’ll niggas lame as fuck, none of these chumps can’t hang with us
All these chains getting tangled up
And my clique armed and dangerous, and we’ll flame you up

You get smoked mothafucker like angel dust
Start the Rolls Royce with the angel up
All these niggas on angels bruh, but I got stripes like a bengal does
And my wrist look like the flash on
Come that ho and bring that ass on
So I can beat it up like you stole something
Might pop a purple, go mad long like skrrt
Been through your hood in a wraith, niggas is jealous, just look at your face
3-57 get put in your place, follow my lead all you niggas is late
Like hold up, hold up, I done made a million on that corner
I bought some coke but couldn’t deal with Arizona
Them yellow diamonds looking clearer than Corona
And if they act like they ain’t with it

[Meek Mill]
I graduated from the streets, no diploma
I made a million on that corner
I mixed pedico with baking soda
I made a million on that corner
Going Donald Trump numbers on the corner
I made a million on that corner
Graduated from the streets, no diploma
I made a million on that corner
I made a million on that, I made a million on that
I made a million on that corner

[Rick Ross]
I’m on the corner gettin’ cake
I’m talkin’ like it’s 88
Givenchy all I really play

Kingpin status when I swerve up on the block
A nigga like you, you wouldn’t even get the cock
Get my money dolo, I just need some help to count it
I’m the richest nigga outta Dade-Broward County
Feds know my game, they keep it raw, we all at odds
Repossess my Lambo cause they wanna build a charge
When they got my Chevy, got it runnin’ like it’s ‘sposed to
Hit up on my niggas, let ‘em know my shop reopened
We rockin’ everything, till I’m right back on the top
Nasdaq hustle bitch, come get your ass in stocks...