[Intro: Meek Mill]

Yeah

So much money you gotta put that shit on a scale, nigga

We ain't never goin' back to being broke

One time for all my young niggas in the trenches (Woo)

[Pre-Chorus: Meek Mill]

Ain't chasing a bitch, I'm chasing a dream (You know the routine)

Ah, damn, look what a nigga done made of the team (You know the routine)

I know why they jealous, I be on the type of stuff they never seen (You know the routine)

Whole 'nother level, I shit on them niggas and ain't even mean it (Whoa, whoa)

[Chorus: Clemm Rishad]

Young nigga blowin' old money, spend a milli', make it back (Whoa, whoa)

Made enough off a old hustle, I don't even gotta rap (Whoa)

Grind and I get it, stack and I spend it, you know the routine (You know the routine)

Poppin' them tags, gettin' them bags, you know the routine, hey (You know the routine)

[Verse 1: Wale]

Mike Amiri put a hole in my jeans

I ain't playin', in a whole 'nother league

Go to Philly, then I go to Reddys

Then I get a Rollie, then I meet a bitch

And then I get a zip

And then I take a dip into her womanness

I feel like Carson Wentz

I got the wisdom

If a nigga sit the bench

I got a funny feeling that you niggas fooling

Boy, he still the coldest

This the moment I come different, yeah

Yeah, BAPE, Folarin, no monkey business

Can't H&M us, no

Shout out to women in Cape Town

Africa's always a great time

Donald said all of us live in huts

I tell him, "Dummy, go to Lagos"

Oh, you niggas like to play tough?

You really hatin' 'cause your pay stub

Philly women really chillin' with me

Now I really can't stop sayin' jawn

The double-M-G is back, mo'

See me with Sneak and with fat boy

See, they can sleep on my raps, they have

But who really, really can bag hoes? (Whoa, whoa, Folarin, bitch)

[Chorus: Clemm Rishad]

Young nigga blowin' old money, spend a milli', make it back (Whoa, whoa)

Made enough off a old hustle, I don't even gotta rap (Whoa)

Grind and I get it, stack and I spend it, you know the routine (You know the routine)

Poppin' them tags, gettin' them bags, you know the routine, hey (You know the routine)

[Verse 2: Meek Mill]

You know how we living, I ain't gotta post it (I don't)

I ain't even boastin' (Yeah)

How many times I gotta tell you 'bout these 'Raris and Wraiths and Ghosts? (Skrrt-skrrt)

How many times I gotta tell you that I mob, La Cosa Nostra? (The mob)

How many famous bitches do I gotta fuck for the love of the culture?

Oh Lord, everything Kosher

Came in this bitch with a chip on my shoulder (Whoa)

Took it to Vegas (Vegas)

I bet it all at the table at poker (Whoa)

Just look at they faces (Faces)

I know they don't like how I'm fucking them over (They don't)

These niggas is crazy (Crazy)

You never gon' catch me out rockin' a choker (No)

I'm on some shit right now, I feelin' lit right now (Lit right now)

We catch a snake in the grass, he gettin' clipped right down (Brrt, brrt)

I got a hundred in cash, I'm 'bout to spend right now (Spend right now)

They try to put me in last, but what do it look like now? (Woo)

[Chorus: Clemm Rishad]

Young nigga blowin' old money, spend a milli', make it back (Whoa, whoa)

Made enough off a old hustle, I don't even gotta rap (Whoa)

Grind and I get it, stack and I spend it, you know the routine (You know the routine)

Poppin' them tags, gettin' them bags, you know the routine, hey (You know the routine)

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]

Fingerprints on that dope money

Healy sent you to a new crib (Huh)

Bad bitch speak pig Latin

Tussionex with a new seal (Huh)

Sticker price with the white bricks

Raekwon with the Wu deal (Woo)

Slice a pie and we all eat

Stick a straw in my cough syrup

I don't fuck with these weirdos

Swear to God, it be paranoid

Treat a jet like it's a cab fare

Sold a brick, came back for it

Your whole clique be your pallbearers

R-I-P for a small error

Black Phantom, blessed pharaoh

Black Bo', rest well (Bo)

Collins Ave in a high rise

Cocaine white skyline

What I labeled a memoir

To broke niggas is sci-fi

Bad bitch on my sideline

Name tatted on five wives

Stackin' money like Mayweather

And they heard I got nine lives

[Chorus: Clemm Rishad]

Young nigga blowin' old money, spend a milli', make it back (Whoa, whoa)

Made enough off a old hustle, I don't even gotta rap (Whoa)

Grind and I get it, stack and I spend it, you know the routine (You know the routine)

Poppin' them tags, gettin' them bags, you know the routine, hey (You know the routine)