DJ Khaled Ft Meek Mill, Vado, Big Sean, Ace Hood & Wale – Future Lyrics

DJ Khaled song with everone and their mom rapping on it (including Vado batting cleanup!)

Future Lyrics by DJ Khaled Ft Meek Mill, Vado, Big Sean, Ace Hood & Wale

[Intro: DJ Khaled]
I am the streets, the future
I introduce you to Ace Hood, Meek Millz, Big Sean
Wale, Vado, this the future
They getting money, they making hit records
They hustling

[Verse 1: Ace Hood & DJ Khaled]
Okay now Khaled told me kill em (Kill em)
He just told me kill em (Kill em)
Hundred for the Beamer, kudos for the dealer
Murder bet I wrote her, kudos to the killer
Chevy sitting crooked, teeth on Reggie Miller
I’m a motherfucking beast, see me in your sleep
Nightmare on any street, swear I will murk any beat
Spread this to the industry, lyrics like the chopper piece
Flow right through your fitted T, pull this loot with chemistry
Hottest nigga ’round, they saying greatness is my tendency
No such thing as sympathy, more money my remedy
Pockets on Heavy D, bitch I’m hot, third degree
Whip I drive, owned by me, wrists and neck, anti-freeze
Can it be I’m who you dying to be?
Last of a dying breed, talking Siamese
Twin pistol shooter nigga like a 7B
Big dog getting it, you still on your pedigree
Yeah, fly nigga with some stupid swag
Dead faces keep my money in a body bag
And I’m G-U-T-T-A, hops in the whip and I gotta get paid
Fuck them bitches, ain’t tryna get laid
Walk in my house you can meet my maid
Any given day you can push that Lac
Push that Benz on, push that ‘Lade
Hopped in the whip, no top on mine
Niggas gonna hate, man fuck them guys
Real nigga shit, don’t tell no lie
Private plane, my seat recline
Top ten charts where I reside
Got me a house, about to sign, nigga
[Verse 2: Meek Mill]
Meek Milly
We the motherfucking best, word to my mama
Ridin’ presidential got me feeling like Obama
Cause all I want is change and my niggas they wanted the same
I wanted the money and never the fame
I turned into something they never became
Through all that rain, I kept my flame
And I kept burning and it’s my turn and
Real nigga, my hood confirm it, now it’s 6-2’s on closed curtains
And that Maybach, let me take ’em way back, when I was starving
Now it’s payback, nigga where that cake at? Murder all your artists
And I, I, I, I can feel that love, I can feel that hate
When I got that drum, I just feel so safe
I put it to your mug and it ain’t gonna wait
From this lil ’08 when that thing gon fly
Got a little kick but it ain’t no tired
Niggas talk murder but they ain’t gon ride
Now we going hard like I ain’t gonna die
Meek Mill

[Verse 3: Big Sean]
Boi, boi, do it, okay, okay, smoke until I ain’t got no lungs
Got her going down, no teeth, I call it speaking tongues
(Do it, do it) Now you speaking my language
From when they twist and talk with they fingers
Man but this ain’t no sign language
Just fresh out of the ashes, this a Detroit fucking classic
From when MM got the masses, and Trick Trick got them passes
Bitch I’m from the Motor, Motor, yeah, that motor be the fastest
Bitch, they call it Motor City cause you’re most likely to crash
Fuck it, good thing I got a chauffeur (Chaffeur)
Going broke? (Going broke?) No sir (No sir)
Bitch I’m the rap game stylist (Boi)
Cause I gave the rap game style, bitch
But I overshine, ain’t no niggas over Sean
Toll rollin’ five quarters so I guess we going overtime
‘Til we dumb high (Dumb high) dumb high (Dumb high)
Westside, bitch I run mine
I’m rolling around in my old school, I feel like the alumni
Fuckin’ hoes, no strings attached
So don’t ask me why they strung out
I’m like Jordan to you niggas, I might even stick my tongue out
She wiggled and wobble, bobbled then landed on my throttle
Bitch, I might make you my baby and even buy you a bottle
Your niggas don’t ask how the top feel
When you keep ’em right beside you
My pockets got paper on paper, this shit just look like a novel
Boi, hundred thousand worth of ice on me now
But it don’t feel half as good as grandma saying she proud

[Verse 4: Wale]
Forever dedicated, Maybach poetic genius
Some think they close to seein’ me, tell ’em they close to Stevie
You poser niggas ain’t ‘posed to be here, we don’t believe ya
Double MG up, we put a wreath on niggas’ career
We the best, Khaled, no need to stress, Khaled
Know there’s a lot of artists, but I got the best palette
Multiple colors, my mind is more productive than others
Married to Winnie, he think he really Nelson Mandela
That’s fire though, one time for the 305 though
That hydro make me tired, yo, my kick game be so Tae-Bo
My balance be so tight rope, that’s hard to find, Quick Tri-Flow
Can’t fuck with me, that dyke flow, hoes blow for me, I maestro
Shit, that white whip sit like a slight wrist slit
Suicide shit, you can by shit if you write this shit
Nigga and right this minute, they say I’m buzzing hard
My driver’s out of this world, you playing bumper cars
You niggas under cars, you should be unemployed
All you smokers Reggie, I’m in the telly, bunch of noise
Who gon’ tell me that I ain’t going or I ain’t flowing?
Young Folarin, you see them ‘puters, that was my influence

[Verse 5: Vado]
The Towers fell (Uh-huh), turned to Ground Zero
Kids ain’t like Reggie Jackson, Nicki Barnes their hero
As I play Rothstein, Corleone like Bob De Niro
Been through it, we’re here though, don’t move with the weirdos (Woo)
Dress pimp, make a toast like, “Let’s win”
Penthouse is on West and Fourth, pipes and MAC-6
While we in a Maserati brickin’ his best friends
When I die, tell ’em to turn my coffin to stretch Benz (Just like this)
Rims on it, problems, my mans on it (I see em’)
See him, we stomp him out, his mouth, our Timbs on it (Yes)
Always smoking an ounce amount, no tens on it (No)
Spins on it, you have no clout depends on it (What)
What the fiends say, few roaches you need spray
On tours, we straight, making sure lawyer fees paid (I got em’)
Get the bills due, Mildew SRT-8
Charcoal seats gray, drop tops like release dates
Vado