Home / Rap / Wale – Routine (Lyrics) ft. Rick Ross & Meek Mill

Wale – Routine (Lyrics) ft. Rick Ross & Meek Mill

Routine – Wale Lyrics, Letra:
Intro: Meek Mill
Yeah
So much money you gotta put that shit on a scale, nigga
We ain’t never goin’ back to being broke
One time for all my young niggas in the trenches (Woo)

Pre-Chorus: Meek Mill
Ain’t chasing a bitch, I’m chasing a dream (You know the routine)
Ah, damn, look what a nigga done made of the team (You know the routine)
I know why they jealous, I be on the type of stuff they never seen (You know the routine)
Whole ‘nother level, I shit on them niggas and ain’t even mean it (Whoa, whoa)

Chorus: Clemm Rishad
Young nigga blowin’ old money, spend a milli’, make it back (Whoa, whoa)
Made enough off a old hustle, I don’t even gotta rap (Whoa)
Grind and I get it, stack and I spend it, you know the routine (You know the routine)
Poppin’ them tags, gettin’ them bags, you know the routine, hey (You know the routine)

Verse 1: Wale
Mike Amiri put a hole in my jeans
I ain’t playin’, in a whole ‘nother league
Go to Philly, then I go to Reddys
Then I get a Rollie, then I meet a bitch
And then I get a zip
And then I take a dip into her womaness
I feel like Carson Wentz
I got the wisdom
If a nigga sit the bench
I got a funny feeling that you niggas fooling
Boy, he still the coldest
This the moment I come different, yeah
Yeah, BAPE, Folarin, no monkey business
Can’t H&M us, no
Shout out to women in Cape Town
Africa’s always a great time
Donald said all of us live in huts
I tell him, “Dummy, go to Lagos”
Oh, you niggas like to play tough?
You really hatin’ ‘cause your pay stub
Philly women really chillin’ with me
Now I really can’t stop sayin’ jawn
The double-M-G is back, mo’
See me with Sneak and with fat boy
See, they can sleep on my raps, they have
But who really, really can bag hoes? (Whoa, whoa, Folarin, bitch)

Chorus: Clemm Rishad
Young nigga blowin’ old money, spend a milli’, make it back (Whoa, whoa)
Made enough off a old hustle, I don’t even gotta rap (Whoa)
Grind and I get it, stack and I spend it, you know the routine (You know the routine)
Poppin’ them tags, gettin’ them bags, you know the routine, hey (You know the routine)

Verse 2: Meek Mill
You know how we living, I ain’t gotta post it (I don’t)
I ain’t even boastin’ (Yeah)
How many times I gotta tell you ‘bout these ‘Raris and Wraiths and Ghosts? (Skrrt-skrrt)
How many times I gotta tell you that I mob, La Cosa Nostra? (The mob)
How many famous bitches do I gotta fuck for the love of the culture?
Oh Lord, everything Kosher
Came in this bitch with a chip on my shoulder (Whoa)
Took it to Vegas (Vegas)
I bet it all at the table at poker (Whoa)
Just look at they faces (Faces)
I know they don’t like how I’m fucking them over (They don’t)
These niggas is crazy (Crazy)
You never gon’ catch me out rockin’ a choker (No)
I’m on some shit right now, I feelin’ lit right now (Lit right now)
We catch a snake in the grass, he gettin’ clipped right down (Brrt, brrt)
I got a hundred in cash, I’m ‘bout to spend right now (Spend right now)
They try to put me in last, but what do it look like now? (Woo)

Chorus: Clemm Rishad
Young nigga blowin’ old money, spend a milli’, make it back (Whoa, whoa)
Made enough off a old hustle, I don’t even gotta rap (Whoa)
Grind and I get it, stack and I spend it, you know the routine (You know the routine)
Poppin’ them tags, gettin’ them bags, you know the routine, hey (You know the routine)

Verse 3: Rick Ross
Fingerprints on that dope money
Healy sent you to a new crib (Huh)
Bad bitch speak pig Latin
Tussionex with a new seal (Huh)
Sticker price with the white bricks
Raekwon with the Wu deal (Woo)
Slice a pie and we all eat
Stick a straw in my cough syrup
I don’t fuck with these weirdos
Swear to God, it be paranoid
Treat a jet like it’s a cab fare
Sold a brick, came back for it
Your whole clique be your pallbearers
R-I-P for a small error
Black Phantom, blessed pharaoh
Black Bo’, rest well (Bo)
Collins Ave in a high rise
Cocaine white skyline
What I labeled a memoir
To broke niggas is sci-fi
Bad bitch on my side line
Name tatted on five wives
Stackin’ money like Mayweather
And they heard I got nine lives

Chorus: Clemm Rishad
Young nigga blowin’ old money, spend a milli’, make it back (Whoa, whoa)
Made enough off a old hustle, I don’t even gotta rap (Whoa)
Grind and I get it, stack and I spend it, you know the routine (You know the routine)
Poppin’ them tags, gettin’ them bags, you know the routine, hey (You know the routine)
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