Fuck You
Fuck You

Yo Gotti, Meek Mill - Fuck You Lyrics

6
Fuck You Music Video

Fuck You Lyrics

Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you (tell a hater I said)
Fuck you, fuck you (pussy)
Fuck you, fuck you (tell your bitch I said)

Me
Ass up, face down
One night only, I'm from out of town
Pound, new rules we ain't waiting on it
And if that pussy good we spend a cake on it
Plane ticket, hotel, new bag, new Chanel
Giuseppe sneakers, his and hers
If you a hater I just got two words

Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you (tell a hater I said)
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you (and tell your bitch I said)

You, and the bitches that you came with
All in my section drinking my shit
You ain't fucking, you ain't sucking what you doing ho?
Instagram and taking pictures, but you don't know me though
Damn, she said that she a fan
Yea I understand, but I want to get in her pants
'Cause she thick as fuck and she sticking her tongue out
She said she don't fuck with rappers
And I'm like what you talking about bitch?

Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you (I got two words for you)
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you (tell a hater I said)

Oh, I said fuck 'em
I don't like 'em, I don't love 'em
When the money come
Homies turn to haters, I don't trust 'em
If the brick ain't coming with a stamp, I don't touch it
I want that BMF with the Scorpio when I'm bustin'
Like a bitch when she twerkin', y'all niggas workin'
Clown ass niggas, we should put you in the circus
In the cage with the lion, let him have you for dessert
And testifying on your homie, took a deal, but was it worth it nigga?
I met this bitch, she said "My friend, she want to fuck you"
I like your friend, but really though, I wanna fuck you
And if I get my roadie though, he gotta to fuck too
Now put your middle fingers up and scream

(Ho, ho!) haters, nigga mad at the paper
Big crib, ten cars, twenty acres
Twenty chains, ten watches, I'm a jeweler
Lil' watch with the jest, don't let it fool you
I could school you on how to look like money
Hustler of the year, could write a book 'bout money
Don't pop them bottles tryna impress them hoes
With your re-up money better tell them hoes, bitch

Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you (tell a bitch I said)
Fuck you, fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you (tell a hater I said)

Writer(s): Mario Mims, Marco Antonio Jr Rodriguez Diaz, William Leonard Roberts
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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