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Meek Mill
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Lay Up (Remix)
feat. Jay-Z & Trey Songz
[Verse 1:Rick Ross] She getting to know me She liking me next She kissing me slow I'm biting her neck Just catching the flow I'm writing the next She ready to blow I'm referring to sex, Yes
[Interlude: Trey Songz] Lay up, lay up Lay up, lay up
[Verse 2: Rick Ross] Siting back with these paper falling in my lap Feeling isolated nothing but them hundred stacks When your money up tell me who you supposed to trust Every night a different women fucking money up My bank account in shape, I can run with Puff I came to put you down shorty so what the fuck is up Since I met her she can't keep that pussy off me On a pill I'mma kill that pussy softly Back to back tryna show you how gangster move Keys to the pent, talking infinity pools V12's ain't a thing tryna change her name Papers stuffed in her purse can't hear her phone ring
[Hook: Trey Songz] She know it's gametime when I do it like that When I pass it to her baby throw it right back She can get the lay up, all night She be tryna lay up, all right And when I shoot I don't miss (don't miss), I don't miss (don't miss) I don't miss when I do it now She could get the lay up, all night She be tryna lay up, all right
[Verse 3: Jay-Z] Hold up The bigger the boat, the better the bitch Not only boats baby girl I ships A million copies since '96 Plus that nintey five south love I double dip, damn Dope man I need a dope bitch So I can divey up, all of this dope shit I know Versace, know Givenchy, know Guiseppe Emilio Pucci introduce you if you let me I know Stella, Margiela, Marc Jacobs Micheal Kors fuck 'em all, custom made stuff I'm a made nigga, you a maid nigga Get a way, getaway, get away nigga Jumpin' off boats, hoppin' off another cliff Every six months I think I need a new bucket list To whom it applies Who fuckin' with me I'm the greatest alive Love, I know you agree
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Rick Ross] Getting money come natural stunt in my past time Making love fucking like it's my last time You know we fight and fuck, you know we fuck and fight Ain't nothing perfect baby this is fucking life Street battle tested, dreams manifested When we was selling things nigga we was breaking records Dom Pérignon running down my tatted arm Other bitches hating on me and my baby born Had her running with the low and shorty took the charge Already out on bond, shit I would been scared She did it like a chief while I was going hard Now the world is yours, it's your time to ball
[Hook]
[Verse 5: Trey Songz] From the night to the morn', yeah she tryna lay Got a freaky, freaky game and she tryna play Couple more shots baby can you make it stay, stay up Lay up, lay up Might just slap the backboard, give you what you ask for Lay up
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