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future – sh!t (megamix) lyrics

[verse 1: drake]
took n+ggas out the hood like i’m from there
so you know it’s all good when i come there
i hear you talk about your city like you run that
and i brought my tour to your city, you my son there, n+gga
but i had to come through for the remix
on my haven’t+done+a+verse+in+eight+weeks sh+t
and if a n+gga say my name, he the hot sh+t
but if i say the n+gga name, he still the hot sh+t
f+cked up, lucky i don’t feed into the gossip
n+ggas act like they don’t know, but they should know
yeah, i just think it’s funny how they dangling the bait
but i’m the one that’s k!lling n+ggas on the hooks, though
and n+ggas ain’t got a grill, still ice+grill hating
i know y’all already know mike will made it
just looking at thе numbers, n+gga, i feel amazing
i’ll call michael jordan up and mike will makе it
i’m the young rap n+gga with the ‘melo deal
you need to come to ovo for a better deal
just know a million ain’t sh+t once you get a mil’
and n+ggas say it’s all good
that’s how you better feel, n+gga, nah!
f+ck that, this year i’m talking big stuff
rolling through the city like a young n+gga bricked up
f+ck n+ggas gon’ be f+ck n+ggas
that’s why we never gave a f+ck
when a f+ck n+gga switched up, d+mn!
[verse 2: schoolboy q]
frontin’ like you really on that bullsh+t
gun him down, make a motherf+cker do a full flip, chip chip
n+gga really really on that crip sh+t
bisquick whip, whip, whip, n+gga, move it!
got the toolie, yeah, the piece, i’mma use it
n+gga ruthless, leave a chump n+gga toothless
tell him “smooches”, got that white girl
get a tan when i ice her, arm and hammer
mixin’ venom like a viper, you the buyer
i’m the n+gga with the fire, you’s a minor
now i’m major with the paper, coppin’ acres
overseas like a sailor, you a hater
and ya daddy in the same boat, you a busta when ya chain go
pourin’ syrup on my eggo, four liters for the eight though
to the face, now the day slow, you’s a fruity lil’ rainbow
real n+gga, call me django, 50 seconds till the say low
wild bucks shootin’ halos, every pocket got a bank roll
i don’t think you really understand me (stand me)
groovy q ain’t keep the nose candy (candy)

[verse 3: fat trel]
n+gga tell me how you want it with a savage
it get crazy where i’m living it’s tragic
if you can take it from my pocket you can have it
you know i got a body bag in the trash
you know i got an old thot you can have
n+gga couldn’t f+ck my old b+tch
n+ggas couldn’t eat my old p+ssy
i’m in the kitchen i could tell you how the stove looking
n+gga all i really wanted was the pyrex
a couple hundred body sn+tchers in the projects
you know my plug stay connected like direct
i’m in miami my b+tches like “where lebron at?”
i finish f+cking her and finish like “where your mom at?”
in front the coppers i got choppers for the combat
couldn’t believe it my n+ggas say he was sellin’ grenades
keep bullsh+ttin’ and ima sit you where the bomb at
d.c. n+gga, sittin wrist whip dough
he ain’t know a chopper price get this low
see i cop em’ in atlanta bring em’ back to alabama avenue
and tell them n+ggas “come and get it let’s go”
fifty in the mac take em’ back to benning road
strippa b+tches in my kitchen with the semi’s on the floor
all i know i want him dead by tonight
with his head in his lap and his body at the light
purchase me some act and i’m a pour me some sprite
tell a b+tch keep counting till she get the count right
when a b+tch finish might purchase her a flight
might take her whole life
might f+ck her all night
right, you know i hate to say it twice
but you p+ssy ass n+ggas ain’t bout that life
p+ssy ass n+ggas ain’t bout that life
p+ssy ass n+ggas ain’t bout that life

[verse 4: meek mill]
thirty in the clip catch the whole thing
feds know a n+gga by his whole name
shoot him in his head for his gold chain
you was running ball, we was sellin’ cocaine
talkin bout you buyin’ bricks, n+gga you ain’t got sh+t
we was sellin’ all them keys, we was like the locksmith
twenty+five hundred for the red bottoms
balmain five bands for the waist n+gga
i’m rollin’ through my city in a new rolls royce
cheif keef 300 for the wraith n+gga
a.k, s.k, h.k n+gga, three k’s like i hate n+ggas
and i’ll put you in your place n+gga
you got shoebox money i got a safe n+gga holdup

[verse 5: rick ross]
automatic pistol on a n+gga leather seat
see a bad b+tch she my jam of the week
all i ever wanted was a kilo
till they hit my little n+gga with the rico
b+tches lookin’ at me, keisha look at all this change
it’s the heart of war tour bus full of k’s
master p money i could pull up in a tank
c murda shooter know a pill on the way
still [?]
rich n+ggas coming through you broke n+ggas better move
at your front door got word you got work
3.5 for the key of the purp
now six figures for this fat n+ggas verse
all eyes on me as i’m walking through the church
prayin’ lord forgive me, 30 shots in the semi
i done paid all of my tithes now it’s time to go and get it
my new plug don’t f+ck with the cut
my new b+tch gettin’ f+cked in the b+tt
ridin’ by the [?] see me sitting in the trunk
n+ggas say they coming threw but they see me strapped up, what
n+gga runnin’ in your house for the brown bag
feds wanna know how much in the brown bag
n+gga swinging that stick for the brown bag
your b+tch even saw my number on the brown bag
all i ever wanted was kilo
till they hit my lil’ woe with the rico
sippin’ on purp n+ggas still got a pint
still moving work n+gga ooh what night
ooh what a night, ooh what a night
post a picture of that p+ssy get 200 likes
200 likes all that b+tch getting from me is them 200 likes
[verse 6: jeezy]
made the forbes and i’m straight up outta projects
still running with them n+ggas with that work check
it go “brrrrrrrr” with the choppa
that’s the only way the p+ssy ‘posed to stop ya
pour out a little liquor, one in every got a ghetto
stack a 20 bill, n+gga, tall as carmelo
winter olympic games and the categories caine
bet ya one f+ckin’ thing, i’ll win a gold medal
why ya actin’ like a b+tch? lil jon, my n+gga
don’t you ever doubt me, i’m like lebron, my n+gga
i ain’t takin’ no shorts, b+tch, i hit it with the fork
f+ck a wrist game, use my whole arm, my n+gga
snowman, b+tch, y’all know me
fourth quarter pressure on ’em like kobe
act like my sh+t don’t stink, pocket feel like a bank
neck lookin’ like a 40 ounce of o.e
tell me why my album selling, they ain’t murder me yet
if they do, bury me in a burgundy ‘vette
talk behind my back, you could hate me all ya want
but them same f+ck n+ggas ain’t shot sh+t yet
yeah, you see me on gangland, as real as it get
they just rappin’ about it, i was livin’ that sh+t
straight up

[bridge: t.i.]
this for my n+ggas when they walk up out the house, they (turn it)
f+ck what ya mouth say (turn it, turn it)

[verse 7: t.i.]
fully automatic rifle, 100 round drum on it with a scope
i done had that, n+gga (brrrrrrr, stick ’em)
i ain’t playing with these n+ggas, just k!ll ’em, turn it
n+gga talk sh+t, i’ll blast that n+gga
shoot his ass right in front his homeboys
k!ll the party, drove off and then stab that n+gga
everyone vicinity hear the boy ho noise
i’m the zone 1 king, from a whole one thing
threw a 100 on it, shawty, i was doing my thing
you tryna get a million, i done did that
aye, keep it pimpin’, keep a ticket where i live at
aye, listen, sucka, i got nothin’ for ya but a new coffin
i’ll shoot you walkin’ ‘fore you get through talkin’, n+gga!
catch me walkin’ in ya hood, trench coat swingin’
mask on, step up on ya front porch bangin’
them bankhead n+ggas, they a muhf+cka, ain’t they?
i’m the realest, richest n+gga that you know today famous
catch ya flaggin’ in ya hood and ya wanna be a gangsta
in ya skinny jeans in arenas entertainin’
no matter how you paint it, better see the big picture
i’ll get ya, n+gga, wit’ ya, then hit ya n+gga!

[chorus: future]
talkin’ ’bout you poppin’ tags, n+gga, you ain’t bought sh+t
talkin’ ’bout a hunnid bottles, n+gga, you ain’t popped sh+t
all you talk ‘nana clips, n+gga, you ain’t shot sh+t
spending money on these hoes, n+gga, you ain’t f+ck sh+t
talkin’ ’bout you poppin’ tags (sh+t!), n+gga, you ain’t bought sh+t (sh+t!)
talkin’ ’bout a hunnid bottles (sh+t!), n+gga, you ain’t popped sh+t (sh+t!)
all you talk ‘nana clips (sh+t!), n+gga, you ain’t shot sh+t (sh+t!)
spending money on these hoes (sh+t!), n+gga, you ain’t f+ck sh+t (sh+t!)

[verse 8: diddy]
i ain’t tryna hear a whole bunch of that (sh+t)
about how many bodies you caught (sh+t)
my n+ggas is real thug n+ggas, them real n+ggas don’t talk
worldstar n+ggas get caught, wavin’ all them guns at the cameras
grown ass n+gga, you ain’t bout to shoot (sh+t), you don’t do (sh+t)
you just think it’s cool (sh+t) to move bricks
real n+ggas do it cause they got to
i know them real n+ggas and it’s not you
and if they see yo’ ass round here frontin’
real shooter be somewhere and shot you
man, get the f+ck out the booth poppin’ that (sh+t)
corny ass n+gga just talkin’ that (sh+t)
heard about it, read about it, never been around it
but you think ya soft ass give somebody that (sh+t)
how you movin’ round with ya ho?
you ain’t even stickin’ to the code
you don’t even represent the life right
p+ssy n+gga sleepin’ with a night light
comin’ for ya head like fight night
i can get anything done for the right price, boy!
(bad boy) take that

[interlude: future & juicy j]
talkin’ ’bout you poppin’ tags, n+gga, you ain’t bought sh+t let’s get it! (ma+fi+uh!)

[verse 9: juicy j]
if money talk then your pockets ain’t saying sh+t
i’m in the bathroom getting head from yo’ b+tch
and i ain’t paying her sh+t
you want beef? you don’t know who you playing with (hey!)
i tell my pilot to land the jet (hey!)
i’m hopping off, get ’em, we popping off (hey!)
give a cl!ck and you n+ggas dead where you standing at (hey!)
i’m just a trippy n+gga smoking on cabbage
your money funny like jim carrey
i got a b+tch and she super bad like halle
and we still keeping that white like barry
i’m a rich n+gga, still keep a pistol with me
n+gga, you ain’t f+ckin’ with a picture of me
i got all this cake and shooters with me
just in case you p+ssy n+ggas try to get you a piece
what it is, my n+gga? what it’s hittin’ for? (hey!)
where the car you were whippin’ in you video? (hey!)
where the ice at, n+gga? where them pretty hoes? (hey!)
you a fraud, real n+ggas already know (hey!)
broke+ass n+ggas, i can’t stand ’em (hey!)
i hit ’em with the cannon
i’m buying off the mall at random (hey!)
juicy j, that n+gga fresh to death (hey!)
smoke it ’til it’s nothing left
peel off, then i’m ghost in my phantom

[interlude: future]
talkin’ ’bout you poppin’ tags, n+gga, you ain’t bought sh+t

[verse 10: tracy t]
my k!llas got shooters on shooters
my k!llas got shooters on shooters
my k!llas got shooters on shooters
bang bang bang bang bang bang
knock em down hundred rounds, lotta pounds, kilograms on the ave
how you want it? quarter thang, half thang, whole slab?
young atlanta n+gga pull a hammer on ya
pull up on a n+gga in a california
teach a lame how to flip a couple numbers
whole summer dope runners getting more commers
money got me geekin’, d+mn i need more
alejandro bringin’ in them truckloads
copy that, get racks, n+gga ten+four
choppa bullets just rip a n+gga head off
clip long as a little n+gga leg dawg
empty that and the barrel just smoke
closed casket, n+gga head open
peel the top back, yeah i’m in the foreign
wide body and it sittin’ on forgies
choppa kick like chuck norris
ralph lauren, my engine full of horses
aim game insane n+gga i’m a marksman
cocaine white y’all n+ggas flip porcelain
blow worth a fortune, million on the fortress
n+ggas totin’ ak’s like they glock 40’s

- future lyrics

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