Me (FWM) [feat. A$AP Ferg]

Fuckin' with me, niggas ain't fuckin' with me (niggas ain't fuckin')
Niggas ain't fuckin' with me, you niggas ain't fuckin' with me (whoa-whoa)
Whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Drop (yeah)

Flew her out on the first flight
Got that pussy the first night
Niggas say, "It's war, then it's on sight", gang, gang (brrt)
Walk in this bitch with all this ice
I could've came through in a 'Rari, but hit the hood on my dirt bike, yeah (man)

Countin' these bands up, been fuckin' my hands up (fuck it up)
I was in Paris, I pay for the drill, hit your man's up (brrt)
Big Glock. 40 on the hipline, hold my pants up (hold it up)
She was confused, like, "How you the G.O.A.T. in a Lambo truck? " (she like, "What?")

Fuckin' this tall bitch from the back, say, "Stand up" (woo)
Then put your motherfuckin' face down, ass up
Nigga been rich too long for makin' these songs, my nigga, it's past luck
Fuckin' this bitch too long, she offered a threesome and I just passed up

She wanna go in the 'Rari (too small)
I wanna rip in the Wraith (let's go)
I wanna look at the stars (stars), like I was hittin' in space (yeah)
Nigga, how you get back home? (How he get back?)
Take a look at his case (check him out)
Said her period's on (what happened?)
I put it on her face

Niggas ain't fuckin' with me, you niggas ain't fuckin' with me (yeah, yeah, Harlem)
Niggas ain't fuckin' with me, niggas ain't fuckin' with me (Meek Mill, what up?)
20 bad bitches goin' up with the gang, they fuckin' for free (ooh-ooh)
You call her phone, I call her phone, she comin' to me (yeah)

Got a boss bitch, Dominican
Slim with the buns, cinnamon
Friend got the cake like Entenmann's
East coast bitch in Timberlands (yeah)
Dip with the set like Killa Cam
Hop on a jet and we get a tan
Like Mortal Kombat when she throw it back
Her friends like, "Finish him" (right)

Run up, gon' flex, huh
It look like I'm lootin' in my closet, with the baguettes, huh
I just hit Will up with a deposit (yeah), fill up my neck, huh
Lookin' like light bugs sittin' on my collar (right)
We been stressed, huh, pull up with a mink, look like I am Chewbacca

Blocka-blocka, turned to shottas if them coppers try to pop us (Ferg)
Then go sit at John and Vinny's, have some pasta with some mobsters (yeah)
Swervin' through Philly, I'm hangin' with Billies and nobody really can stop us (woo)
BIA, BIA, we throw dollars, got your BIA pussy poppin' like

BIA, BIA, why you actin' like a hoe? Like a hoe
BIA, BIA, why you actin' like a hoe? Like a hoe
BIA, BIA, get yo' eyes up off my dough, off my dough
BIA, BIA, get yo' eyes up off my dough, off my dough (that's right)

Niggas ain't fuckin' with me, niggas ain't fuckin' with me (niggas ain't fuckin')
Niggas ain't fuckin' with me, niggas ain't fuckin' with me (they can't touch us)
20 bad bitches goin' up with the gang, they fuckin' for free (fuckin' for free)
You call her phone, I call her phone, she comin' to me
BIA, BIA

Fuckin' this bad bitch from the projects, her name Tia
Head was good, the best on earth like Russ and BIA
Nigga asked me did I see her, but I ain't seen her
But I did, 'cause she was tucked in the fahina
Spanish bitches goin' up like La Marina
She a hot girl and I'm hot too, jalapeño
We sell work, and she wan' work 'cause she a pinger
We gon' serve that lil' bitch (gang)



Credits
Writer(s): Jonathan H. Smith, Todd Anthony Shaw, Sammie D. Norris, Stephanie C. Martin, Robert Rihmeek Williams, Torrence Hatch, Jeffery Oliver Robinson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link