Music Video

Meek Mill - Classic Feat. Swizz Beatz & Jeremih (Official Audio)
Watch Meek Mill - Classic Feat. Swizz Beatz & Jeremih (Official Audio) on YouTube

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Meek Mill
Meek Mill
Vocals
Swizz Beatz
Swizz Beatz
Vocals
Jeremih
Jeremih
Vocals
Bangladesh
Bangladesh
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dustin James Corbett
Dustin James Corbett
Songwriter
Robert Rihmeek Williams
Robert Rihmeek Williams
Songwriter
Shondrae Crawford
Shondrae Crawford
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bangladesh
Bangladesh
Producer
Sam Bohl
Sam Bohl
Assistant Engineer
Rick Ross
Rick Ross
Executive Producer
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Fabian Marasciullo
Fabian Marasciullo
Mixing Engineer
Anthony Cruz
Anthony Cruz
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Whoo!
It's hot outside, man
Meek Milly's comng, daddy
[Verse 2]
Hunnid for the walkthrough
I'm not who you talk to
Drive by'll wet you up
**** that's a carpool
Spitting all this hot shit
Every single bar cool
Diamonds in the Rollie face
Animated cartoon
[Verse 3]
Call Mean Milly, I don't play that shit
Got me on my nappy braids
Before the Maybach clique
Riding in the wheels of fortune, Pat Sajak shit
And all I rock is Balmain, like I make that shit
I been front row Fashion Week
Lookin' like I'm in the show
Sitting in the foreign
Leather softer than a dinner roll
[Verse 4]
Make a movie on your bitch
Tell her friend to get a role
You thought she was innocent
We laughin' like she been a ho
Jumping out them Benzo's
Meet yo bitch in the friend zone
She told you I was friend-zoned, what?
I'm in the end zone
Touchdown with a two point conversion
Give her that dick long
She bustin' like the clip long
Uber to send your bitch home, ****
[Verse 5]
I got a fever, bitch
Hot outside, I got a fever, bitch
Feeling sick, I got a fever, bitch
In these Philly streets, situations is
Police ain't respecting the youth and
The youth ain't respecting the truth and
The Glock nine is on me in the booth and
All I talk is that real shit, the truth and
[Verse 6]
The money turned your bitch into a gold digger
The money got me feeling like the old Jigga
And Jigga even told me you a cold ****
They didn't believe me, I was broke
But I showed ****
And I told **** that I would dispose ****
Went to buy a pair of sneaks
Landed at the Royce dealer
[Verse 7]
Brand new paper tag
Hatin' never made me mad
You get at your baby mama
I'm flyer than her baby dad
Looking at my neck
What that cost, hundred-eighty cash?
Looking at my bitch
She remind me of a Stacey Dash
We were selling rock before Kareem Biggs, Damon Dash
Oh, you think you fly, with your little Dream Chasin' ass?
[Verse 8]
We don't chase bitches
We chase money and D'ussé
'Cause when you get the money
The hoes do whatever you say
Riding in a drop head
Phantom with the toupee
And if you just hearing this
Then it's probably too late
[Verse 9]
I got a fever, bitch
Hot outside, I got a fever, bitch
Feeling sick, I got a fever, bitch
In these Philly streets, situations is
Police ain't respecting the youth and
The youth ain't respecting the truth and
The Glock nine is on me in the booth and
All I talk is that real shit, the truth and
[Verse 10]
Meek Milly
Mack Milly
Get smacked silly
Come to Philly
Come see it, live and direct
You know
Written by: Bangladesh, Dustin James Corbett, Meek Mill, Swizz Beatz
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