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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Rick Ross
Vocals
Meek Mill
Vocals
Anthony Hamilton
Vocals
Max Breton
Guitar
Dria
Background Vocals
Teedra Moses
Background Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Anthony Hamilton
Songwriter
William Leonard Roberts II
Songwriter
Teedra Moses
Songwriter
Ramon Montgomery
Songwriter
Tarik Azzouz
Songwriter
Nicholas M. Warwar
Songwriter
Clemm Rishad
Songwriter
Christopher Thorton
Songwriter
Diondria Thornton
Songwriter
Meek Mill
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
STREETRUNNER
Producer
Tarik Azzouz
Producer
Thomas "Tomcat" Bennett, Jr.
Recording Engineer
Anthony Cruz
Recording Engineer
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Finis White
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Real talk, so when my **** Meek caught his case
I went to visit, I'm walking up to the jail house
All'em **** start wreckin'
Beatin' on the glass, kickin' the doors and shit
So when I walked through the door and
The captain tell me, you can't come in here
Okay, cool
Came back two weeks later
I got access
Soon as I got on the cell block
I heard it all the way from down the hallway (Started off poor with plans to own more)
My **** had on yellow Balenciagas (The riding and the stars, the life we live for)
Ha ha ha! (Dreamin' of things we can't afford)
(And now we coming up like them Lamborghini doors)
[Verse 2]
They gon' love me, they gon' me now
I bet they tell they friends they wanna fuck me now
Yeah, I bet they say, "Put his **** on"
Now we coming up like the Lamborghini doors
[Verse 3]
Corners wanna check 'em like Odell Beckham
I could pen a record or just draw the weapon
She know I'm living reckless, lookin' at my necklace
I'ma blow this forty on me, you can save the lectures
Homicides rise as the sun falls
Watch your dog die as my gun bark
These helicopters rise for the one in charge
If I sentence you to die, well, that's a hundred shots
Judge bangin' like a blood, show a **** love
Caught him with a kilo, so he hit him with a dub
We bulletproof the trucks like the ones in Iraq
Where I'm at, you lock your door and you using a latch
Now the stones on my hands Roberto Duráns
Stood tall in the feds, don't fold on the fam
Tell them bring me to the money, no holding my hand
Somebody take me to the bank, 'cause it open at ten
[Verse 4]
Poverty stricken, boy, you gotta be kiddin'
Livin' like we hit the lottery, ****
I've been tippin' since Scotty was Pippen
Chad was sippin'
And before I had that bag, I used to bag them bitches
I'm so cocky and I'm confident
All these killers are my ambience
Say what I want, and nobody stopping it
Get off my dick, ****
Where you was at when I coulda died for this?
Or died for that, real ****, roger that
Shout out to the loss, but I got it back
Me and all my dogs sell a lot of that food
Talkin' to the law, knowing that it's not cool
Make me shoot a rapper like my name was Benny Boom
Started off with nothing, now a **** in the room
Sweeping rich bitches off they feet like a broom
Double M-G, bitch, you know how we move
Whole lotta choppers, ****, I could never lose
[Verse 5]
I was amazed
Oh, how it turned their heads
I mastered the game
Oh, how they raised their hands
Like Lamborghini doors
[Verse 6]
We're goin' up, we
We're goin' up
Oh so high
Like Lamborghini doors
We're goin' up, we
[Verse 7]
I seen this years ago
Picasso in the glow
[Verse 8]
Painting's on the wall, you never know the cost
You banging on the boss, that boy'll be a corpse
I'm stepping through the door, my back against the wall
My pockets fat enough to catch a **** if I fall
Love to see a pretty bitch rolling a wood leaf
Phone ringing, smiling like I got some gold teeth
I caught a bird, jet smarter on the Maltese
I left a chick out in DC out on the northeast
Such a feeling, **** killing for my poetry
Time to go back underground, that's once they notice me
I'm really not the one you wanna handle funny
At the Grammy's, my little homie had the hammer on him
You **** out of style out, with your wedding vows
I still be making rounds like I'm Kevin Liles
Time to set a date for trial, we never settle out
Them Lamborghini doors, you see me stepping out
[Verse 9]
Started off poor with plans to own more
To ridin' under stars, the life we live for
Dreamin' of things we can't afford
But now, we coming up like them Lamborghini doors, ooh
[Verse 10]
They gon' love, they gon' love me now
I bet they tell they friends they wanna fuck me now
Yeah, I bet they say put his **** on
And now, he coming up like the Lamborghini doors, ooh
Written by: Anthony Hamilton, Christopher Thorton, Clemm Rishad, Diondria Thorton, Nicholas M. Warwar, Ramon Montgomery, Robert Williams, Tarik Azzouz, Teedra Moses, William Leonard Roberts II