Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Meek Mill
Meek Mill
Vocals
Dammo Farmer
Dammo Farmer
Bass Guitar
Chris Payton
Chris Payton
Guitar
Lonnie Liston Smith
Lonnie Liston Smith
Sampled Artist
TAYLOR KHYRIE
TAYLOR KHYRIE
Keyboards
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Lonnie Liston Smith
Lonnie Liston Smith
Songwriter
Nikolas Papamitrou
Nikolas Papamitrou
Songwriter
Omar Gomez
Omar Gomez
Songwriter
Larrance Dopson
Larrance Dopson
Songwriter
Robert Rihmeek Williams
Robert Rihmeek Williams
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Larrance Dopson
Larrance Dopson
Co-Producer
Alex Estevez
Alex Estevez
Engineer
Lou Carrao
Lou Carrao
Engineer
Steven Xia
Steven Xia
Engineer
Beat Menace
Beat Menace
Co-Producer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Gimel "Young Guru" Keaton
Gimel "Young Guru" Keaton
Mixing Engineer
Dylan Del Olmo
Dylan Del Olmo
Recording Engineer
Anthony Cruz
Anthony Cruz
Recording Engineer
Papamitrou
Papamitrou
Producer

Lyrics

Yah Big bag, got 'em big mad A nigga gettin' to some money And his bitch bad Jumpin' out the Rolls truck with the temp tag I'm gettin' money, I don't get mad, ugh Ask a nigga in my hood He go and said it on stand And when them situations came I came out like a champ When it was pourin' down rain and I came out of it damp But now it's champagne showers When we poppin' the champ', ugh We dodged all the feds and they traps Niggas can't be us 'cause they rats Stand tall, point a finger, never that I knew a nigga had it all Went to the B and get it back That's why I'm humble as ever And I rumble whatever Don't chase hoes 'cause They come with this cheddar I seen my man girl start actin' Bougie when he fuck up his cheddar Before you knew it, niggas was Fuckin' her better I knew about it and I- Wanted to tell him, I felt funny as ever But when I told him He went runnin' to tell her, damn Remember I was down bad I'm talkin' under the cellar Now the Rolls Royces come with umbrellas For the rain and all the pain that we been through If you don't feed your wolves They gon' put you on the menu That's why I be with family And some bulls that I been knew If money determined loyalty We'd cut you with a Ginsu Now I go against you, facts Rule number one, Never count your homie pockets Thinkin' you deserve it Rule number two, never trust a bitch That'll fuck you for some purses Rule number three Save you some of that money Shit you better stop splurgin' 'Cause when it's all said and Done and you back at The bottom, they gon' treat you Like you worthless Respect the game Fuck the fame We millionaires fuck your watch and lil' chain Niggas disappear as quick as Lil Xan You feelin' yourself, I know you got a lil' lane Just hold your composure I seen this shit happen over and over That couple hundred thousand holdin' you over That ain't real money That's bill money, buy a Rollie Get a wheel money Catch a case, pay a lawyer, take a deal money Now you tapped out and got no appeal money Callin' home like niggas done did you wrong But when you had that money You could've put niggas on And the moment they put cuffs on you Your bitch was gone Student of the game I'm just ahead of my class I'm that nigga But I never got my head up my ass You doin' good, but I'm ready for bad And you won't never catch me frontin' 'Cause I'm used to bein' second to last Respect the game Rule number one, Never count your homie Pockets thinkin' you deserve it Rule number two, never trust a Bitch that'll fuck you for some purses Rule number three, Save you some of that money Shit you better stop splurgin' 'Cause when it's all said And done and you back at The bottom, they gon' treat you Like you worthless Respect the game
Writer(s): Lonnie Liston Smith, Larrance Levar Dopson, Robert Rihmeek Williams, Nikolas J Papamitrou, Omar A Gomez Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out