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No, I can’t take one more step towards you
‘Cause all that’s waiting is regret
Don’t you know I’m not your ghost anymore
You lost the love I loved the most

I learned to live half alive
And now you want me one more time

[Chorus:]
And who do you think you are?
Runnin’ ’round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are?

I hear you’re asking all around
If I am anywhere to be found
But I have grown too strong
To ever fall back in your arms

I’ve learned to live half alive
And now you want me one more time

[Chorus:]
And who do you think you are?
Runnin’ ’round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are?

Dear, It took so long just to feel all right
Remember how to put back the light in my eyes
I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed
‘Cause you broke all your promises
And now you’re back
You don’t get to get me back

And who do you think you are?
Runnin’ ’round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all

[Chorus:]
And who do you think you are?
Runnin’ ’round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
Don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all

Who do you think you are?

Who do you think you are?

Who do you think you are?

[Intro]
Mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia
Shut the fuck up!
If young Metro don’t trust you, I’m gon’ shoot you

[Chorus: Juicy J]
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
My niggas need to eat
My niggas need to eat
I gotta feed the streets
Don’t worry ’bout it
I gotta, I gotta feed the streets

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
Niggas do time flipping the Ye
Niggas is dead, he got a grave
Nigga, I ain’t playin’, tryna get paid
Homie got hit ’cause he got in the way
Had to get out, shit is the same
Niggas insane all this shit change
They wanna a name, they had him sprayed
They gotta catch a body for fame
I’m in a whole other lane (lane)
Flipping these racks like cane (cane)
I got rich and gave back
And you niggas stayin’ the same
I drive the Wraith through the hood
That’s why my niggas in the grind (yes sir)
Show all my niggas how to get this money, just gotta put in the time
Real niggas know, how hard I go (I get this cash)
I put in work, I put niggas on (So much cash)
Them mafia days (Mafia!), my hustle so strong (Mafia!)
Real shit, I’m lit like a cigarette lighter, I was doing this shit when you was shitting in diapers

[Chorus: Juicy J]
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
My niggas need to eat
My niggas need to eat
I gotta feed the streets
Don’t worry ’bout it
I gotta, I gotta feed the streets
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
My niggas need to eat
My niggas need to eat
I gotta feed the streets
Don’t worry ’bout it
I gotta, I gotta feed the streets

[Verse 2: Project Pat]
I gotta feed the streets
My pistol gon’ bleed the streets
Ski mask on my face, sometimes you gotta cheat
Just stay ahead in this bitch
Drankin’ sizzurp like its liquor
Street life, but I’m catching up to god quicker
AK-40 to your liver
Make the chopper bang on you like a blood or a crip, ah
So much bread, I’m a gymnast
Made so much money off of dummies, a ventriloquist (Yeah hoe!)
[??] pop a tear, diamonds in my ear
New foreign ride every year, I’m in foregin gear
Plug show up with the pack, it’s gon’ disapear
Stick shift hustle, I stay in fifth gear

[Chorus: Juicy J]
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
My niggas need to eat
My niggas need to eat
I gotta feed the streets
Don’t worry ’bout it
I gotta, I gotta feed the streets
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
My niggas need to eat
My niggas need to eat
I gotta feed the streets
Don’t worry ’bout it
I gotta, I gotta feed the streets

If young Metro don’t trust you, I’m gon’ shoot you
Mafia

[Verse 3: A$AP Rocky]
I gotta feed the streets
You gotta flee the streets
You gotta lead the streets
I don’t mislead the streets
I might just drop some heat
I might just tease the street
I do not need the streets
Cause nigga, I be the streets
It’s sad ‘cuz my little bad bitch [?] when she [?] the trap
I let her chase the dream
I might front-lace her weave
Give her a place to stay, with a new face to feed
I really love the streets
I might just flood the streets
‘Cuz I’m really from the streets
Y’all niggas who run the streets
Niggas just take a seat
How the fuck could you hate on me?
Say that you still in the streets, but you can not wait to leave

[Chorus: Juicy J]
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
My niggas need to eat
My niggas need to eat
I gotta feed the streets
Don’t worry ’bout it
I gotta, I gotta feed the streets
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
I gotta feed the streets, ayy
My niggas need to eat
My niggas need to eat
I gotta feed the streets
Don’t worry ’bout it
I gotta, I gotta feed the streets

[Outro]
Mafia!
Mafia!
Mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia

[Hook: Slim Thug]
If you gon’ be a boss, be a boss
If you gon’ be a king, be a king
If you gon’ be a bitch, stay a bitch
‘Cause there ain’t nothin’ in between
If you gon’ be a boss, be a boss
If you gon’ be a king, be a king
If you gon’ be a bitch, stay a bitch
‘Cause there ain’t nothin’ in between

[Verse 1: Slim Thug]
Fresh up outta dream, feeling like I’m prince Akeem
Two queens makin’ sure my royal penis clean
Made my mind up, I only want the finer things
Went from the hood to living in the West Wing
Live like a king, thing like a boss
‘Cause if I want somethin’ I’ll work my ass off
‘Til I got it no stoppin’, no quittin’, givin’ up ain’t an option
Fuck waitin’, I got my own shit poppin’
Ain’t nobody gonna stop me from shoppin’
Ain’t nobody gonna stop me from ridin’ Rolls
And sliding in these young niggas fine hoes
Oh, but I’m cold with the game like The Mack
I jump back in the game, make a quick hundred racks
Tell her bring the money back but I’d rather make my own
I decided to be a boss and make a song

[Hook: Slim Thug]
If you gon’ be a boss, be a boss
If you gon’ be a king, be a king
If you gon’ be a bitch, stay a bitch
‘Cause there ain’t nothin’ in between
If you gon’ be a boss, be a boss
If you gon’ be a king, be a king
If you gon’ be a bitch, stay a bitch
‘Cause there ain’t nothin’ in between

[Verse 2: Big K.R.I.T.]
King Krizzle, King Tut, it ain’t no difference
Chariot still whippin’ while gold still flickin’
Off the paint, yeah, the trunk, shaking like it know the stanky leg
I mix the struggle with the hustle to make bread
Ah mayne, I fit the family with a loaf
A piece off for my unborn to ball on these hoes
You got to save it, got ti pay it, double up and attack them haters
And ‘em racist motherfuckers, they try to take as soon as you make it
Multi and my brand that I own
Alot money tree, but what’s a tree if it ain’t growin’
In my backyard, my cul-de-sac large, I hold my nuts
I got the kind of ice on my grill that I can’t crush, plus my credit good
I spend the money from my sock, you wish your debt could
I wish a million for my partners, they still in the hood
They got skills but ain’t no court to ball
I ain’t talking shooting shots, I’m talkin’ shots to call
Krizzle

[Hook: Slim Thug]
If you gon’ be a boss, be a boss
If you gon’ be a king, be a king
If you gon’ be a bitch, stay a bitch
‘Cause there ain’t nothin’ in between
If you gon’ be a boss, be a boss
If you gon’ be a king, be a king
If you gon’ be a bitch, stay a bitch
‘Cause there ain’t nothin’ in between

[Intro: Quavo]
Yeah
Trap [?]
Migos

[Chorus: Quavo]
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Gotta put my fist in that bowl
Them niggas is so small, we call ’em tadpoles
You wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up

[Verse 1: Quavo]
I got a (What you got Qua?)
Appointment set up with your bae
I got a bitch from the Bay
I got a truck out your bay
She telling me give her a taste
I put that dick on her face
I put that dick on her face
Yeah, like mace
Pull up and I set up shop
She drinking that shit by the shots
Stunt on the block, same spot
Pull up and cannot deny
Niggas out here straight [?]
If you hanging with a group of guys
Better make sure they gon’ ride
I pull up like ¿cómo estás?
None of your traps exist, nigga
Selling that snort to your bitch, nigga
That ain’t making my dick bigger
Count it up and drop it on that fist, nigga
Look at your unc with that itch
Pop that, a nigga won’t twitch
[?] They gon’ say "I ain’t said that shit man"

[Chorus: Quavo]
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Gotta put my fist in that bowl
Them niggas is so small, we call ’em tadpoles
You wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up

[Verse 2: 2 Chainz]
30 rounds and the clip clear
Make you and the Drako french kiss
Can’t stand a dirty kitchen
Broke up with my mistress
Took the fork and I bent it
Had a Panamera on [?]
[?] and she pretty
Still a heart away like [?]
Skrrt, yeah, that is the sound
I’m scraping the bowl
[?], I ain’t got kids
I gotta make it back home
One phonecall’ll get you killed
I ain’t even gotta scroll
Had apartment with no furniture
But at least I had a stove
Turned [?] to whitewater
’bout to get this splash on
Other day I walked into Gucci
Told them folks that I’m back home
Got the city on my backbone
Black on like [?]
Money calling, check the ringtone
Phil Jackson with the rings on
Yeah

[Chorus: Quavo]
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Gotta put my fist in that bowl
Them niggas is so small, we call ’em tadpoles
You wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up

[Intro: Trouble]
Let do it
Money man
Go get your money man, go get that
Go for that shit now, go get your money man
Mike Will Made-it bitch

[Pre-Chorus: Trouble]
Ounces in my motherfucking pantry
Diamonds on a young nigga, dancing
Just dropped some bank rolls on some glasses
Just dropped your bitch off, man that ho so nasty
Huh, all about that paper, can’t miss a beat
Yeah, I’ma get some cho-cho, one thing ’bout me
Yeah, gas up all that old shit, miss me with that
I could put you frontline, just bring it back

[Chorus: Trouble]
Bring it back, bring it back, yeah
Bring it back, bring it back, bring it back, yeah
Don’t wanna have to chase you down ’bout no stack
Cause I will blow you back, bring it back, this ho here throw it back

[Verse 1: Trouble]
Yeah, tryna show me that she ’bout it
‘Bout it, ’bout it, yeah, shawty ’bout it, ’bout it, yeah
Take the charger, bad lil shawty say she ’bout it
I gotta come for you, you shot at my lil’ partner though
The loud wild off the gate, don’t need your molly
As a git, you scraped the candy, Mr. Charlie
Nowadays I ride a foreign by Mr. Charlie
I got the game down now, sorry Mr. Charlie
Ayy, she say you so motherfucking hood
But you ain’t no motherfucking good
Might be right, gift and a curse, I take it all this blessing
Know you fucking with a real one though, no question
Partna you gon’ get spent on all that flexing
So many of us shooting you straight, ain’t no pressure
Hating on that man won’t do you no blessing
Tryna teach a young nigga flexing
Wanna go to war, but you ain’t got no money
Worry ’bout these hoes and you ain’t got no money
Mike Will Made-It
Big Trouble, baby

[Pre-Chorus: Trouble]
Ounces in my motherfucking pantry
Diamonds on a young nigga, dancing
Just dropped some bandos on some glasses
Just dropped your bitch off, man that ho so nasty
Huh, all about that paper, can’t miss a beat
Yeah, I’ma get some cho-cho, one thing ’bout me
Yeah, gas up all that ho shit, miss me with that
I could put you frontline, just bring it back

[Chorus: Trouble]
Bring it back, bring it back, yeah
Bring it back, bring it back, bring it back, yeah
Don’t wanna have to chase you down ’bout no stack
Cause I will blow you back, bring it back, it’s on here, throw it back

[Verse 2: Drake]
Yeah, I don’t play no games boy, I’m at your head
All about the family, niggas took the pledge
Now you gotta own up to that shit you said
You can’t push us to the edge, Trouble from the edge
Hit the gas and we outta there
Do it for the six because we started there
I got a girl that used to ride around with ‘Pac an’ them
I gotta get it, you came from my lil partner then
Yeah, Richard Mille, heavy on the watch
Extra million just to see the Maybach drop
Crest white smile on my face
Once I get to snapping ain’t nobody safe
Reality gon’ hit ya or we gon’ hit ya
Either way if they was with ya, they going with ya
Mike WiLL Made-It
Me and Big Trouble baby

[Pre-Chorus: Trouble]
Ounces in my motherfucking pantry
Diamonds on a young nigga, dancing
Just dropped some bandos on some glasses
Just dropped your bitch off, man that ho so nasty
Huh, all about that paper, can’t miss a beat
Yeah, I’ma get some cho-cho, one thing ’bout me
Yeah, gas up all that ho shit, miss me with that
I could put you frontline, just bring it back

[Chorus: Trouble]
Bring it back, bring it back, yeah
Bring it back, bring it back, bring it back, yeah
Don’t wanna have to chase you down ’bout no stack
Cause I will blow you back, bring it back, it’s on here, throw it back