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trap vibes (summer sixteen & panda remix) - meek mill lyrics

[part 1: summer sixteen]

[intro]
turn me up some, cruz
i told barcelini if them n-ggas hatin’ they gon’ suffer
i’m goin’ up a hundred every day
you know how i play! ha!

[verse]
skinny n-gga in the benz truck (woo!)
swingin’ through like a nunchuck (woo!)
summertime bring them 30s out (brrr!)
tell coon put the sticks up (pull up, pull up!)
wait… hold up, hold up
how can n-ggas go against us? (how?)
cold p-ssies wouldn’t even shoot us
see us roll on ’em like a lint brush (haaa!)
phil movin’ out them bandos (bando!)
we ain’t leavin’ ’til the brick’s done (whoa!)
couple hundred, we gon’ vac seal ’em
just to ride with it like a brinks truck (woo!)
wait, wait, louboutins and the wrist bust (flex!)
b-tch you claiming, i done been f-ck (ha!)
you ain’t even gotta trip, bruh (huh?)
in the trenches in the maybach (maybach)
f-ck i even got the tint for? (why?)
i’m the only n-gga got one (got one)
who the f-ck i gotta hide from? (who?)
barcelini ridin’ shotgun (eeee!)
shooters with him, never mind, n-gga (whoa!)
young n-ggas on sigel street
word to mack, they’ll rock somethin’
wait (wait!)
north side of philly, my side of town (side of town)
bulletproof whip when i ride around (woo!)
n-ggas talk sh-t when i’m not around (no!)
wouldn’t tell you that we run the city
but we movin’, gotta say we joggin’ now (we movin’!)
hit the city and we runnin’ down
ain’t no runnin’ now, n-ggas out of bounds
plug this, plug that
n-ggas rappin’, they ain’t never sold nothin’
hold this, hold that
i ain’t lettin’ these n-ggas hold nothin’
summertime, n-ggas coppin’ foreign whips
you can tell the load comin’
put my name on the flyer
all the trappers, all the bad hoes comin’
n-ggas d-ckridin’ other n-ggas
that’s a trend now (that’s a trend now)
i’m still rockin’ with the same chasers
i’ve been ’round (i’ve been ’round)
got so much work out
we might slim down (might slim down)
i’m so poppin’ all my haters turn friends now (haaa!)
diamonds dancin’ like mike jackson (mike!)
sh-t shining like mike’s jacket (lit!)
moonwalkin’ in a rolls royce
through the rearview, see my life backwards (skrt!)
percocets, popped two 10s on a 20, n-gga now i ain’t active
so wavy, n-gga i ain’t rappin’
can’t tell me that i ain’t swaggin’, no way, ha!

[part 2: panda]

[intro]
this summer right here, n-gga
we goin’ up
litty
it’s litty, ugh!
philly!

[verse]
i’m with ruggs in atlanta
bunch of drugs and the fanta
bunch of guns in the phantom
spendin’ money like a scammer
my young n-ggas in the kitchen whippin’
whippin’, livin’ large at the hammer
duckin’ laws and the scammers
free my dawgs out the slammer
black car, panther
shorty call, never answer
20 foreigns in the mansion
diamonds on me and they dancin’
i don’t really understand rappers
n-ggas jumpin’ on bandwagons
all these bands got my pants saggin’
63s on the benz wagon
62s on the maybach
b-tch, i’m comin’ for the payback
62s in the pot, n-gga
tryna whip it up and bring it way back
woo! you in the club and spending your cop money
all on the ‘gram actin’ like that you got money (woo!)
we lookin’ at you like you need to stop money (ooh!)
you k!llin’ yourself with that lil’ half a block money
i got that “go to the mall
and get what i want” paper (yeah, yeah)
you the type hopin’ i fall
that’s what you want, hater (yeah, yeah)
‘member back when i was broke?
i only had one hater (hoo!)
these suckers gon’ hate you
no matter you broke or you on paper (yeah, yeah)
hundred bands, added up (add it!)
we gettin’ money, they mad at us (mad!)
at the jeweler buyin’ more rollies
i don’t think these n-ggas man enough (hoo!)
f-ck them n-ggas, sh-t we stuntin’ on ’em (f-ck ’em!)
n-ggas, they ain’t got nothin’ on us (f-ck ’em!)
n-ggas that we never f-ck with
run and tellin’ people that we fronted on ’em (hoo!)
n-gga made me put a hundred on you
do you dirty, put the drummer on you
shots never stoppin’, pop, pop, pop, pop
we’ll run up on you (hoo!)
dead bodies, homicide, head shot, mama cry
cops lookin’, got an alibi
lawyer money, n-gga, buyin’ time
hold! they hit my n-gga chino in his head
hold! took him to liv though my n-gga ain’t dead
no! ball in miami on sunday, we did
ho! blowin’ the racks, we at vanity grand
all black panamera
white b-tch named samantha
white and black, she a panda
white and black, she a bandit
whippin’ the… rock with the…
hhnnhh, hnnhhnhh

[outro]
i should have just run with the rest…

- meek mill lyrics

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