Lyrics Future - DJ Khaled , Wale , Ace Hood , Vado , Meek Mill , Big Sean
I
am
the
streets,
the
future
Iduce
you
to
Ace
Hood,
Meek
Mills,
Big
Sean,
Wale,
Vado
This
the
future
They
getting
money,
they
making
hit
records
They
hustling
Okay
now
Khaled
told
me
kill
them
He
just
told
me
kill
them
Hundred
for
the
Beamer
Kudos
to
the
dealer
Murder,
bet
I
wrote
it
Kudos
to
the
killers
Chevy
sitting
crooked
Keep
the
Reggie
Miller
I'm
a
motherfucking
beast
See
me
in
your
sleep
Nightmare
on
any
street
Swear
I
will
mark
any
beat
Spread
this
to
the
industry
Lyrics
like
a
chopper
piece
Blow
right
through
your
fitted
T
Pull
this
through
with
chemistry
Hottest
nigga
around,
they
saying
Greatness
is
my
tendency
No
such
thing
as
sympathy
More
money,
my
remedy,
pockets
on,
Heavy
D
Bitch
I'm
hot,
3rd
degree,
whip
I
drive?
Owned
by
me
Wrists
and
neck,
anti-freeze,
can
it
be?
I'm
who
you
dying
to
be
Last
of
a
dying
breed,
tote
the
Siamese
Twin
pistol,
shoot
nigga
like
a
7D
Big
dog,
get
it?
You
still
on
your
pedigree
Yeah,
fly
nigga
with
some
stupid
swag
Dead
faces,
keep
my
money
in
a
body
bag
And
I'm
G-U-T-T-A,
hop
in
the
whip
and
I
got
to
get
paid
Fuck
them
bitches,
ain't
trying
to
get
laid
Walk
in
my
house,
you
can
meet
my
maid
Any
given
day
I'ma
push
that
'Lac
Push
that
Benz
on,
I'ma
push
that
lake
Hop
to
the
whip,
no
top
on
mine
Hear
a
nigga
hate,
man
fuck
them
guys
Real
nigga
shit,
don't
tell
no
lie
Private
plane,
my
seat
recline
Top
ten
charts
where
I
reside
Come
to
your
house
and
run
inside
Meek
Mill!
We
the
motherfucking
best
Word
to
my
mama
Rock
presidential,
got
me
feeling
like
Obama
Because
all
I
wanted
was
change
And
my
niggas
they
wanted
the
same
I
wanted
the
money,
and
never
the
fame
I
turned
into
something
they
never
became
Through
all
that
rain,
I
kept
my
flame
And
I
kept
burning
and
it's
my
turn
and
Real
nigga
my
hood
confirm
it
Now
it's
6 2′s
on
closed
curtains
And
that
Maybach,
let
me
take
them
way
back
When
I
was
starving,
now
it's
payback
Nigga
where
that
cake
at?
Murder
all
your
artists
And
I,
I,
I
can
feel
that
love,
but
I
feel
that
hate
When
I
got
that
slug,
I
just
feel
so
safe
I
put
it
to
your
mug,
it
ain't
gone
wait
It
go
away
when
that
thing
gone
fly
Got
a
little
kick,
but
it
ain't
no
tire
Niggas
try
murder,
but
they
ain't
gone
ride
Let
me
go
hard
like
I
ain't
going
to
die
Meek
Mill!
Smoke
until
I
got
no
lungs
Got
her
going
down,
no
teeth
I
call
it
"speaking
tongues"
Do
it!
Do
it!
Now
you
speaking
my
language
From
where
they
twist
and
talk
with
they
fingers
Man,
but
this
ain't
no
sign
language
Yes,
fresh
out
of
the
ashes
it's
a
Detroit
fucking
classic
From
where
MM
got
the
masses,
Trick
Trick
got
them
passes
Bitch
I'm
from
the
Motor,
Motor
Yeah,
that
motor
be
the
fastest
Bitch,
they
call
it
Motor
City
Because
you're
most
likely
to
crash
Fuck
it!
Good
thing
I
got
a
chauffeur,
chauffeur
Going
broke?
No
sir!
Bitch
I'm
a
rap
game
stylist,
because
I
gave
the
rap
game
style,
bitch
But
I
over
shine
Ain't
no
niggas
over
shine
Told
them
"Roll
up
five
quarters"
so
I
guess
we're
going
overtime
Till
we
dumb
high,
dumb
high
Westside,
bitch,
I
run
mine
I'm
rolling
around
in
my
old
school,
I
feel
like
the
alumni
Fucking
hoes,
no
strings
attached
So
don't
ask
me
why
they
strung
out
I'm
like
Jordan
to
you
niggas
I
might
need
to
stick
my
tongue
out
She
wiggled
and
wobble,
bobbled
Then
land
on
my
throttle
Bitch,
I
might
make
you
my
baby
And
even
buy
you
a
bottle
Your
niggas
don't
ask
how
the
top
feel
When
you
keep
them
right
beside
you
My
pockets
got
paper
on
paper
This
shit
just
look
like
a
novel
Hundred
thousand
worth
of
ice
on
me
now
But
it
don't
feel
half
as
good
as
Grandma
say,
and
she
proud
Forever
dedicated,
made
my
poetic
genius
Some
think
they
close
to
seeing
me
Tell
them
they
close
to
Stevie
You
poser
niggas
ain't
supposed
to
be
here
We
don't
believe
you
Double
MG,
and
we
put
a
wreath
on
niggas'
career
We
the
best,
Khaled
No
need
to
stress,
Khaled
Know
there's
a
lot
of
artists
But
I
got
the
best
palette
Multiple
colors,
my
mind
is
more
productive
than
others
Murray
the
winner,
he
think
he
really
Nelson
Mandela
That's
fire
though,
one
time
for
the
305,
though
That
hydro
make
me
tired,
yo
My
kicking
be
so
Tai
Bo!
My
balance
be
so
tight
rope
That's
hard
to
find,
quick
try
flow
Give
up
with
me,
that
knife
flow
Hold
over
me,
I'm
maestro,
shit
That
white
whip
sit
Like
a
slight
wrist
slit
Suicide
shit,
you
can
by
shit,
if
you
write
this
shit
Nigga,
and
right
this
minute,
they
say
I'm
buzzing
hard
My
driver's
out
of
this
world,
you
playing
bumper
cars.
You
niggas
under
cause
You
should
be
unemployed
All
you
smoke
is
Reggie,
I'm
in
the
tellie,
bunch
of
noise
Who
gone
tell
me
that
I
ain't
going,
that
I
ain't
flowing?
Young
Folarin,
you
see
them
puters
That
was
my
influence
The
towers
fell
Turn
into
Ground
Zero
Kissing
like
Reggie
Jackson,
Nicky
Barnes,
they
hero
As
I
play
Rothstein
Corleone
like
Rob
De
Niro
Been
through
it,
but
here
though
Dope
move
in
the
weirdos
Dress
pimping
the
toast
like
let's
win
Your
house
is
on
West
and
4th
pipes
and
Lex
win
While
me
in
a
Maserati
bricking
his
best
friends
When
I
die,
tell
them
to
turn
my
coffin
to
stretch
Benz
Rims
on
it,
problems?
My
man's
on
See
him,
we
stomp
him
out
His
mouth,
my
Timbs'
on
it
Only
smoking
a
ounce,
a
mountain,
no
tens
on
it
Spins
on
it,
you
have
no
cloud,
the
Benz
on
it
What
the
fiends
say?
Few
roses,
you
need
spray,
on
tours,
eat
straight
Making
sure
all
your
feet
sprayed
Get
the
pills
through,
peel
through
SRT-8
Trunk
on,
seats
gray,
drop
tops
like
release
dates
Vado
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