Lyrics
Rick Ross, Meek Mill, Vory & Fabolous – Dead Last Lyrics
Dead Last Lyrics by Rick Ross, Meek Mill, Vory & Fabolous
[Intro: Meek Mill]
Fuck love, I don’t need to give you my heart, don’t bleed it
And that shit you pulled that time, we ain’t gon’ talk on neither
I’m super loyal, niggas cross me, I go off on people
And you wonder why I don’t call on people, nah, for real
[Chorus: Vory]
Yeah, yeah
Over my dead body
Ain’t just, “Fuck you,” it’s “Fuck everybody”
Niggas talk behind my back, I feel a way about it
It hurt me worser when I act like I don’t care about it
They was talkin’ to them hoes and I’m aware about it
Oh, yeah
Said my peace and I got nothin’ left to say about it
Oh, yeah
[Verse 1: Meek Mill & Vory]
Niggas talk behind my back, I’m aware about it
Act like I don’t care about it
Never show my hand, what they be sayin’ ’bout us
Never show the ‘Gram how we be playin’ ’cause I don’t care about it
Chopper to the bully, when we land, that chopper near by us
Nigga be tryna stand by us, just to get they level up
He hit the baddest bitch he had in his life, was standin’ next to us
I can’t even blame him, he get high-key on his camera up
‘Cause I been really havin’ it my way, this shit for regular
She fuckin’ niggas that’s regular, I had to cut her off
My money ain’t even regular, couldn’t even fuck her raw
And she know how I’m comin’, she cum every time I fuck her hard
But every time I nut, it just be somethin’ I don’t trust at all
Fuck niggas, they’ll try treat me like the underdog
‘Til I pulled up on ’em in some shit like a three-hundred ball
Act like you don’t fuck with us, you know that we don’t fuck with y’all
And we can stand on that ’til when our mothers pull that cover off, pussy (Yeah, yeah)
[Chorus: Vory & Rick Ross]
Over my dead body
Ain’t just, “Fuck you,” it’s “Fuck everybody”
Niggas talk behind my back, I feel a way about it
It hurt me worser when I act like I don’t care about it
They was talkin’ to them hoes and I’m aware about it
Oh, yeah
Said my peace and I got nothin’ left to say about it (Uh, yes)
Oh, yeah
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Teterboro, pretty girl, she wanna see the world
Shed a tear, ready to kill, just give me the word
Free the Lord, I say a prayer because it mean a lot
Killin’ niggas by landslide, it never even out
Homicides all in my eyes as long as I’m alive
Birkin bags stuffed full of hundreds, now let’s count ’em out
Movin’ on, niggas, they will do you wrong
Want a war? Little boy, you better move your mom
Headshot, please, Lord, forgive me when I air it out (Brrt)
Paid the killers to stay quiet, really say a lot
Dead and gone, if we brothers, then we better bond
If I never said, “I love you,” I must’ve said it wrong
Sellin’ dubs when we wasn’t sellin’ much (Woo)
When we was, we gave each other Michael Rubin hugs
I may have let you beat me to a watch (Huh)
But I’ll never let you beat me to the top
[Chorus: Vory]
Yeah, yeah
Over my dead body
Ain’t just, “Fuck you,” it’s “Fuck everybody”
Niggas talk behind my back, I feel a way about it
It hurt me worser when I act like I don’t care about it
They was talkin’ to them hoes and I’m aware about it
Oh, yeah
Said my peace and I got nothin’ left to say about it
Oh, yeah
[Verse 3: Fabolous]
Sometimes, I wake up like, “Fuck everybody”
Every thotty that you always see in every party
Every nigga sleepin’ on me talkin’ petty ’bout me
I’m your worst nightmare and you’s a Freddy body
Little homie serial, he on his seventh body
BM on some shit, still like that new seven body
I’ma ball ’til I fall, bitch could never guard me
Comin’ short, that ain’t no joke and you can’t Kevin Hart me
Niggas think they ridin’ dirty, but they movin’ very sloppy
Got me out here on the North, this shitty very oppy
Got me way up in the hills, signal very choppy
Pussy very wappy, got a nigga jewelry shopping
Scoop her in a Sunday, in a cream whip, then she cherry top me
Then got right back to it, bitch could never stop me
I should not be taken lightly, I’m a heavy topic
And broke hoes always trippin’, but it’s never tropic
The Spanish mamis say, “I like you talkin’ heavy, papi”
New Pharrell Louis V with the leather floppies
Pull up to the valet with the engine revin’, papi
Tellin’ ’em, “Be easy, this a foreign, not a Chevy, papi”
Middle finger up like a Tupac picture
Middle finger up, up for who not with you
[Chorus: Vory]
Yeah, yeah
Over my dead body
Ain’t just, “Fuck you,” it’s “Fuck everybody”
Niggas talk behind my back, I feel a way about it
It hurt me worser when I act like I don’t care about it
They was talkin’ to them hoes and I’m aware about it
Oh, yeah
Said my peace and I got nothin’ left to say about it
Oh, yeah