Listen to Giving Chanel (feat. Future) by Meek Mill

Giving Chanel (feat. Future)

Meek Mill

Hip-Hop

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Meek Mill
Meek Mill
Vocals
Future
Future
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Navyadius Demun Wilburn
Navyadius Demun Wilburn
Lyrics
Nikolas Papamitrou
Nikolas Papamitrou
Composer
Ari Nijam
Ari Nijam
Composer
Nii Noi Tetteh
Nii Noi Tetteh
Composer
Sarthak Bharadwaj
Sarthak Bharadwaj
Composer
Robert Rihmeek Williams
Robert Rihmeek Williams
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Sarthak Bharadwaj
Sarthak Bharadwaj
Producer
KJ
KJ
Producer
Nick Papz
Nick Papz
Producer
Ari Beats
Ari Beats
Producer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer
Michael "Mackey" Dietrick
Michael "Mackey" Dietrick
Recording Engineer
Naiem "Lor" Parker
Naiem "Lor" Parker
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

(KJ, what you got goin' on, man?) (Yo, Nick Papz, make it slap) Come with the gang, he one of the gang, I get him a lawyer or pay him a bail He a lil' shooter, he ain't got no bitches, I get one my bitches to send him some mail I was just whippin' the 'Rari on Collins, givin' 'em hell She was just eatin' it 'til she cryin' (ooh), it's givin' Chanel Give me some money, I know what to do, I turn one into two and just give a scale Stackin' my coins, all my diamonds is water, I'm knowin' these niggas ain't wishin' me well He got hit up that yard stick (brr), ooh, his kidneys failed I've been puttin' it on, and you know I'ma pop shit 'cause I'm really for real I ain't kissin' and tell, I'ma keep it a racky, niggas never could pack me In the back of the 'Bach with a Maybach in back me, know I'm rich as an athlete And I know what to do if them people come grab me, no, I'm never gon' pass peaks Say I'm tellin' on who? Get you smoked automatically, it'll go on my rap sheet (brr, brr) Ooh, racks, she throwin' it 'cause it was fat (okay) I'm blowin' it 'cause I be knowin' I lock and get focused, and go get it back (yeah) She gettin' real hype 'round Mike, Hov and I just told her, "Relax" This shit out the trenches, I'm fresh out the kitchen from turnin' the stove to the max And they killed my dawg a few days ago, I ain't holdin' it back (lil' B) Can't even explain how I feel, 'less I'm rollin' off these pills (rollin') I smoke some weed to go to sleep, and wake up prayin' it ain't real Go through some new shit e'ry week, I need some head, so I could chill (for real) For real, for real, for real, for real, really like that, for real, for real Nigga got smacked, for real, for real, ain't layin' like that in the field, for real Really got back, I started with nothin', I'll show you how to run up 'em Ms for real For real, for real, for real, for real, for real, I'm on a G6 in a 747, I'm gettin' high as a plane That's my lil' nigga, he a lil' shooter, I gave him a bitch, told him, "Blow out his brain" I'm on jet skies in the ocean, givin' 'em hell She eat the dick up 'til she cry, cry, cry, it's givin' Chanel I got 'em hitters with me, brought a whole lotta switches with me like I'm back in the trenches I took the street route when I wake up and leave out, I can throw on Givenchy I'm in the back of the 'Bach with a 'Bach followin' me with a Rolls behind I got the Mac on the side of me, rackys, and I'm rich as an athlete I don't know how to talk back to the police, I get caught with a whole ki' Whippin' a Bimmer, I'm rockin' a Rollie, havin' trap money, low-key I'm rockin' Prada on Prada, no LV, got more water than Maldives Ain't havin' problems with gettin' my Benjis, I can smell all the envy 200 milli', for real, for real, I'm still with niggas who kill, for real I'm in a milli', for real, for real, they goin' on a drilly for real, for real Run up a billi' for real, for real, I'm bailin' out Melly, for real, for real I got the racks, the racks, the racks, for real, they came in a vacuum seal I'm in a coupe, coupe, when I'm droppin' the top off 'bout to hit off a cougar I got a plug, plug when it comes to the drugs, drugs, I got money and shooters You in the hood now, got 'em robbers and killers 'round, nigga, welcome to hell I'm 'bout to touchdown where they runnin' and gunnin' down, brought 'em sticks with us I'm gettin' Lewinsky in the back of the Benzi from two friend skis I got some mixed breeds tryna eat up my undies, leave hungry I'm on a Lear, the vision crystal clear, uh, Cartier She gave me mop, top all year, now it's givin' some new gear I got some bitches I'm ballin' on this year, think I'm playin' for Pat Riley I got the whole Skyami on G6 when they thought we was doin' molly I'm in the pent', the one with the city, the view, with the glass, you get what you choose Ridin' the Batmobile, 200 to sit on the dash, it's givin' a coupe
Writer(s): Phil Hurtt, Robert Rihmeek Williams, Bunny Sigler, Sarthak Sardana, Nikolas J Papamitrou, Ari Najim, Nii Noi Tetteh, Kazumi Tabata Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out