Future (Album Version)

I am the streets, the future I introduce you to Ace Hood, Meek Mills Big Sean, Wale, Vado, this the future They gettin' money, they makin' hit records They hustlin' Okay now Khaled told me kill 'em He just told me kill 'em 100 for the Beamer Kudos for the dealer Murder, bet I wrote it Kudos to the killer Chevy sittin' crooked Keep the Reggie Miller I'm a motherfuckin' 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 Flow right through your fitted T Pull this through with chemistry Hottest nigga 'round, 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 in the air, anti-freeze, can it be? I'm who you dying to be' Last of a dying breed, I'm Siamese Twin pistol shooter 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 the body bag And the G-U-T-T-A, hop in the whip and I gotta get paid Fuck them bitches, ain't trying to get laid Walk in my house you can meet my maid And you give a damn you can push that Lac Push that Benz on, push that lade, hop to the whip, no top on mine Niggas gonna 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 Wild presidential, got me feeling like Obama All I want is 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 the 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 em way back When I was starving that was 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! Do it! OK Smoke until I ain't got no lungs Got it going down, no teeth I call it "speaking tongues" Do it! Do it! Now you speaking my language When they twist and talk with they fingers Man this ain't no sign language Fresh out of the ashes it's a Detroit fucking classic from when 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 Cause I'm most likely to crash Fuck it! Good thing I got a chauffeur... Going broke? No sir! Bitch I'm a rap game stylist, because I gave the rap game style Bitch But I overshine Ain't no niggas over shine Told them it's the quarter so I guess We're going overtime. 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 landed on my throttle Bitch, I might make you my baby And even buy you a bottle You 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 100 thousand worth of ice on me now... But it don't feel half as good As grandma say, and she proud... Forever dedicated, my poetic genius Something they close to seeing 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' careers 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's more productive than others Murray the winner, you 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 folw Hold over me, I'm maestro, shit That white whip shit On the side, wrists slit Suicide shit, you can by shit if you write this shit 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 smokers Reggie, I'm in the tellie, bunch of noise Who gonna 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 Turning to Ground Zero Kicking like Reggie Jackson, Nicki Barnes They hero, as I play Rothstein Corleone like Bob De Niro Been through it here though Don't move with 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 friends 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