[Lyrics] Migos – No Label Intro Lyrics

Migos!
Talk to em Takeoff
Takeoff, Takeoff!
You niggas be bitin’ my style and I like it
But you niggas know you weren’t rapping like this
Trend setter, I’m a trend setter (trend setter)
Knockin’ them out like I’m Mayweather (bap bap)
Bando look like it’s a homeless shelter (bando!)
She poppin’ that molly like Alka-Seltzer ([?])
Whippin’ that dope with the terminator
Wrist is spillin’ dope all on my Breitling bezel (bright bright)
My mansion got 80 acres
Trap underground, they calling me Undertaker (damn)
They wonder why I got the Bentley, the Fisker
I put in work and dedication (hard work!)
50 pairs, Giuseppe steppers
Maison Margielas, they think I’m on Rocafella
The kids, they call me Slick Rick (why?)
I make up a script, they call me the storyteller (damn)
I got the Britney, the Whitney, the Iggy
We murdered Versace like Biggie (murdered it!)
Hannah Montana, fuck nigga we been in that Coogi
It’s time to kill em’ with Givenchy
Red bottoms, scenes are forensic
Designer frames, limited edition
Pushin’ one button, my roof and then its missing (Porsche)
Dope on my Louboutins just left the kitchen (Euh)
You turn on the radio you gon’ hear every rapper tryna rap like the Migos (real shit)
Fuck nigga wanna clone?
Been rappin’ like this since No Label (been did that)
Fuck the fame rather be rich
Been gettin’ money, since No Label (been getting that)
You waiting for it, then here it go, the intro to No Label 2
QC, It’s funny my nigga right
Cause everybody wanna sound like us
But they don’t wanna give us the respect, right?
You fuck niggas gon’ learn we started this shit
We the first niggas to come out the A, on that real street shit
That real Northside shit, holdin’ their muthafuckin’ county down
Not city nigga, county nigga
Tell another nigga to do it like us, nigga
QC the label, money on the table
Migo Gang, No Label!
Way back in the day nigga made No Label in a basement (way way back)
Young nigga got all that talent (huh)
On the radio didn’t have a placement (no no)
Linked up with the hood (link up)
OG Head Hancho, Migos (OG Migos)
Then we took over the north (north)
20 dollars to get your song played at Flamingos (whew)
Remember the days of hitting licks? (remember?)
Every Christmas, had to be St. Nick (Christmas
Payin’ bills, tryna meet the rent (bills)
My mama she say that she sick of it (mama!)
I had to go get to the Benjamin (I had to)
Sorry Your Honor, I’m innocent (I’m sorry)
Money moves the commitment (money moves)
No label, my life you witnessed it (Go!)
From kickin’ doors (Go!)
Taking gold (Go!)
What did I cash out on? I don’t know (no no)
I will not tell on my soul (why?)
Cause Ion’ know if the case closed (shh! Ooh what?)
I know that you hate that Versace went gold (you hate it!)
Now I’m walking round with a blue bankroll (hundo!)
Independent, never ever won’t fold (QC!)
Gon!
See, I learnt the term from my nigga Biggie, right?
We went from ashy to classy
We went from having shit to fucking your bitch, my nigga
No Label, DJ Ray G
These my muthafucking brothers right here, Migo Gang
What niggas you know made a million in one summer without flipping bricks?
Ask your favorite rapper
I bet he say us, nigga
QC, the label
Hah! No Label!
Locked up on every mixtape (locked up)
Quavo told me nigga wait (wait!)
This is the only way we can escape (only way)
I realized it when I sat down for an 8 (realized it)
Grandma’ told me and Quavo to be patient (grandma!)
Grandma’ was a cancer patient (damn!)
Before she died, she sat us down (sat us down)
Said stay together and we’re gonna make it (we made it)
For you niggas don’t know (you niggas don’t know!)
Never really sold dope (never)
But I kicked door (boom)
Free my nigga Willy Mae gave him 3 to the dome (Free him!)
He didn’t tell a soul (he didn’t!)
You making me sick to my stomach
I might go and vomit (Uah!)
You niggas is cloning (cloning)
We’re not together cause you my opponent (not together)
Taking our style nigga we never loaned it (taking the swag)
Labels wanna sign, that ain’t on my mind
Critics and blogs, you know they ain’t lying (critics)
Thirty thousand just to look at the time (30k)
Twenty five hundred for my Louboutin (Ha)
Mansion Elan was our stomping ground
Our money big, your money minimized (big money)
Taking shots cause your buzz died
Cutting the top off the Lamb’ make it circumcised (skkrt skkrt)
The world is fucked up but the strong survive
Haha, name your favourite club in Atlanta, my nigga
We ran that shit
We turned Mansion Elan
Into Migos Elan, nigga
We turned obsessions, in the Migos Playhouse nigga
Every strip club
Our main bitch, our side bitch, her side bitch, her side bitch worked there, nigga
We run this motherfuckin’ city
We started new Atlanta
These niggas jackin’ our swag, they better stand in line
And pay, bitch!