Dope Dealer
Meek Mill


Dope Dealer Lyrics (ft. Nicki Minaj & Rick Ross)

[Intro: Meek Mill]
There's three types of niggas in life
Niggas that make it happen
Niggas that watch it happen
And niggas that don't even know what the f*ck is going on
Choose one...

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
I got all these bad bitches twerkin'
Waves on swim, shit surfin'
I don't wanna yall niggas 'round me
Broke niggas make me nervous
? said she want that paper
Pop p*ssy like she workin'
Damn, a nigga finally famous
Rari by the ?, I'm swervin' (SKR SKR!, SKR! SKR!)
f*ck rap, I might sell swag
She want me 'cause she know i got that Chanel tag
She f*ck me and she gone get that Chanel swag
Her boyfriend like, “Where you get that Chanel bag?”
55 hundo, pop green, and I ball
Like Rondo
Catch me, North-South, with a dime ho
Turnt up, but I'm like keep calm ho
I go, make a million here, million there
All of my niggas, we really in here
Got a bad bitch, and she straight from the hood
But she look like a foreign, brazilian hair
And I'm grabbin' her remi
I bust like a semi, yo bitch (BA BA!)
I get your girl pregnant
You hatin' all on me, you sick (HA HA!)
I ride in my hood in a Bently like it's a Crown Vic (SKR SKR!)
These bitches is choosin'
You niggas is losin'
We rich.
Whatchu expect?

[Hook: Meek Mill]
Wanna f*ck with a dope dealer?
Or keep f*ckin' them broke niggas?
And I don't f*ck with you ho niggas (NAH!)
Rollie yellow like Homer Simpson
That's dope, nigga!

[Verse 2: Nicki Minaj]
I got all these dope dealers serving.
Cut the work up, they surgeons.
I don't want y'all bitches 'round me.
Whack bitches make me curve 'em.
Imported rug, that's Persian.
One wheel up and we swervin'.
Wetter than a lake, that's Ricki!
Pop p*ssy like she Nicki.
She want me cause she see me in that Aventador
Pull up on the curb so crazy, I done bent the door.
Bad bitch wanna borrow it, I lent it to her.
Make her bust that p*ssy up in Singapore.
30 million though, Forbes list.
Out in Philly in a condo, boss shit.
Now they call me Young Oprah; Harpo.
In the pool rockin' polo, Marco
Millionaires, never do leers.
No, they can't see me, they're never my peers.
Fruits of my labor, go get me my pears,
Cause you're outta your element; I am your fear.
So go get off my testicle, pardon my decimal, bitch!
Check up my resumé, I'm upper echelon rich.
Them bikes is out and we throwing 'em up like we sick.
My clothing line is out in them stores and I'm sipping the Myx.


[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
DC, Double M
Say my name and bitch i gotta grant your wish (BOSS!)
50 minions, 30 K
You better drop that brick (drop that brick)
Philly brothers, sometimes they call me Ahh! (call me Ahh!)
I pray to God, everyday I drop my top (Thank you Lord!)
Humble man with ?
I'm the shit, coming down Broad Street
? with a foul call
Flamboyant dough boy, talkin' Al Capone (ROSAY!)
From Monte Carlo to Los Muchachos
My ?

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Record Label(s): 2018 Meek Mill
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