Future

I am the streets, the future
 Iduce you to Ace Hood, Meek Mills, Big Sean, Wale, Vado
 This the future
 They getting money, they making hit records
 They hustling
 Okay now Khaled told me kill them
 He just told me kill them
 Hundred for the Beamer
 Kudos to the dealer
 Murder, bet I wrote it
 Kudos to the killers
 Chevy sitting crooked
 Keep the Reggie Miller
 I'm a motherfucking 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
 Blow right through your fitted T
 Pull this through with chemistry
 Hottest nigga around, 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 and neck, anti-freeze, can it be?
 I'm who you dying to be
 Last of a dying breed, tote the Siamese
 Twin pistol, shoot 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 a body bag
 And I'm G-U-T-T-A, hop in the whip and I got to get paid
 Fuck them bitches, ain't trying to get laid
 Walk in my house, you can meet my maid
 Any given day I'ma push that 'Lac
 Push that Benz on, I'ma push that lake
 Hop to the whip, no top on mine
 Hear a nigga 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
 Rock presidential, got me feeling like Obama
 Because all I wanted was 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 that 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 them way back
 When I was starving, now it's 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!
 Smoke until I got no lungs
 Got her going down, no teeth
 I call it "speaking tongues"
 Do it! Do it!
 Now you speaking my language
 From where they twist and talk with they fingers
 Man, but this ain't no sign language
 Yes, fresh out of the ashes it's a Detroit fucking classic
 From where 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
 Because you're most likely to crash
 Fuck it!
 Good thing I got a chauffeur, chauffeur
 Going broke?
 No sir!
 Bitch I'm a rap game stylist, because I gave the rap game style, bitch
 But I over shine
 Ain't no niggas over shine
 Told them "Roll up five quarters" so I guess we're going overtime
 Till we 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 land on my throttle
 Bitch, I might make you my baby
 And even buy you a bottle
 Your 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
 Hundred thousand worth of ice on me now
 But it don't feel half as good as Grandma say, and she proud
 Forever dedicated, made my poetic genius
 Some think they close to seeing me
 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' career
 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 is more productive than others
 Murray the winner, he 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 flow
 Hold over me, I'm maestro, shit
 That white whip sit
 Like a slight wrist slit
 Suicide shit, you can by shit, if you write this shit
 Nigga, and 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 smoke is Reggie, I'm in the tellie, bunch of noise
 Who gone 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
 Turn into Ground Zero
 Kissing like Reggie Jackson, Nicky Barnes, they hero
 As I play Rothstein
 Corleone like Rob De Niro
 Been through it, but here though
 Dope move in 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 fiends 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