LYRICS: Meek Mill - Connect the Dots

–Intro: Meek Mill–
Yeah, gang!
Chasers, chasers, chasers, chasers, gang!
Chasers, chasers, chasers, chasers, gang!

–Verse 1: Meek Mill–
Ayy, brand new Glock .40 with alter in that bitch (Okay)
32 deep so it don’t matter who you get (No way)
All my niggas hittin’, it don’t matter who you with (Okay)
We gon’ whack you if you tellin’, it don’t matter if you snitch
You done told on your homie, you a pussy (You a pussy)
In the kitchen with the Pyrex, baking cookies (Cookin away)
Everytime you see me out, I got it with me (Know I got it)
Bending thorugh that Bentley truck, they couldn’t miss me
Bought his baby mama a Patek, now that nigga wanna kill me (Oh man)
Yeah, bitch I’m talking fifty, if I stand up on my money
They can’t never hover, let me whack ’em
Straight from across the board, you can never overcook it
This that raw, this that raw
Bitch I ball like it’s Paul Hart
Since they took that Griffin [??] they gon’ blame that shit on y’all
Homie said that he a blood, we gon’ paint that shit on [??]
Told my bro to bring his hit, we gon’ hang it on the wall
All my shooters tryna go, they’ve been waitin’ on my call
They’ve been waitin’ on that ring to pull that thing and chop it off, to knock you off (Brr)

–Hook: Meek Mill–
Connect the dots
Connect the dots
Link with the connect and we collect them blocks (That white perico)
Running to a pussy and collect his watch
When we catch you, headshot, this connect is tough (Woah)

–Verse 2: Yo Gotti–
Let’s talk about the trap, let’s talk about the streets (What is up)
You looked up to Jordanm we look up to Meech (Meech)
Clean a nigga block, leave that bitch bleached (Brr)
Spend a half a quarter on a pair of sneakers (Woah)
What type of boss is you, you gave you dawg a draco (Draco, draco)
Ring your bosses, put their dawgs on the payroll (Payroll, payroll)
Drop Rolls Royce, that’s a don, nigga (Don, nigga)
I got [??] them bitches orange, nigga ( [??]mans )
We CMG grizzly, we just sold out the forms
Yeah, hit up on that new don and watch it transform (transform)
Yeah, you’ve been missing form
If you think you can disrespect the king, it ain’t no coming home (Bow)
Quarter milli on the diamond chain, no charm
Milli rockin’ in the kitchen, tryna make it form (Fuck it up, fuck it up)
My religion get this money, Christian or Islam
And my tradition send the money as soon they say it’s bond
And my lifestyle, don’t leave your house without your fucking gun
The goal is leave the hood but not forget where you from

–Verse 3: Rick Ross–
All about the timing and I’m feeling so correct
Got all these diamonds, bitches say i seem possessed
You scared of violence so you gotta cut the check
We always styling so my niggas fresh to death
No need for violence, ball that shit up in my fist
Get out the projects, that’s the first one on the list (Mam)
Pack up your bags , mama you [??] son is [??] (Mama)
Impeaching niggas, then we hit them with the bliss
Speaking in silence, it’s okay to speak in code
It’s still lil’ booty [??] , boys ain’t gotta [??] the sauce
We 1 of 1 so I take lil’ [??] to close
I got the dons [??] Ds in the [??]
Still fly commercial but I don’t do TV shows
Fucking a actress, so she gotta play the role
You see here money, what you know, you see the most
Versace diners at a Donatella toast
Black in a jeti, got a G.I. watching [??]
They gave ’em life for living life, that boy was sauced
Who you fadin’, pussy boy, go get a body bad
Renzel records, with you Tina Turner contracts
Still war ready, never run with rats (Bawse)
Once again, the dope boys running rap