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[Lyrics] Meek Mill – Flash Back Lyrics

Kenny Lee on the track
The way I’m flowin’
Keep it goin
I rip up the beat then I sew it, back together
Rap forever, its Philly
Whilly, Now tell your favorite rapper that I’m tryna kill him, Really
I’m in the porsche drop, 911 Porsche box
They can never eat me like a muslim and a pork chop
Of course not, I’m dunkin’ until the court drops
Like B. Grif, I eat shit and hoarse blocks. HA!
Flame Spitta you a lame nigga
You can’t compare a G4 to a Plane nigga
Thats like versing a peddle bike into a train nigga
Like Earl Boykins and letting Lebron James stick him HA!
It don’t make no sense
How your label kick you out like you ain’t paid no rent
Always been a star player, I ain’t play no bench
Let these hoes be hoes
I dont say no bitch NAH!

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I be going rambo
Paws on the pork, but I be going HAM though
Riding on the beat like a mother fucking lambo
Hard Like X with, a ’98 Cam flow

Sigel on the Roc, Nas on illmatic
I’m still at it
No matter my choice know Phil back it and cool with it
Still to the jab I move with it, I’m cool fritted
Flyer than most but goon with it and still hood

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Honor roll swag real good
Diamond all on your neck but your album is stillwood
Money my medicine, It be making me feel good
They lock me inside a cell, ain’t matter I still stood
As tall as Yao Ming, Gasol, Bynum, and Shaq
I’m rocking with rozay, Now they know that I’m back
I’m whippin’ in ’62 and I ain’t talking about crack
I’m talking about that thang 360 stacks
360 Days with 5 more I grind on
On my [???] bag get my shine on
Bail money only thing I dropped a dime on
I tell them to get on the level that I’m on
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Was tellin’ you how I’m moving out
Someone call the fireman just to cool me out
I’m hot smokin’ really I’m not jokin’
[???]
Rapping automatic cause really they not smokin’
Put them in the booth kapoof Hokus Pokus
I make magic, Like the Lake Magic
But them in the water I drown em lake placid

And I got bars like I took the jail with me
When they let me out of prison I just took a cell with me
I ain’t got to drop an album, do a tape to sell 50
I be blazin’ in the booth tell your artist trail with me
They got a nigga on trial, they said I murdered the beat
They feel my pin and my pad my finger prints on the sheet
[Fades out while still rapping]

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