Supposedly Lyrics – Rob49, Meek Mill

Read the full Supposedly lyrics by Rob49 and Meek Mill along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Rob49’s music, you can also explore Pack Flipper and BLOUSIN, two other songs by Rob49.

[Intro: Rob49 & Meek Mill]
You dealing with real project n!ggas (Brr)
You know what I’m saying? I’m the biggest in here (You good)
Big 49
Pu*sy
Chases

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
All these fu*king sticks, you better watch how you approaching me (Brr)
N!ggas started switching, now they mad they can’t get close to me (They mad)
She was tryna fu*k me through DM, I hit back hopefully (Okay)
Ask me if I’m fu*king his little b!tch, I’m like, “Supposedly” (Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah)

I’m like, “Supposedly”
They killed my dog and ask me if I’m good, I’m like, “Supposedly” (I’m good, yeah, yeah, yeah)
I’m like, “Supposedly”
This b!tch in here tryna get me head like she wanna take my soul from me

[Verse 2: Rob49]
Yeah, real millionaire, real motion there, n!gga, I’m a trapper
I was standing on the block, yeah all day with killas, turn to a rapper (For real)
We done put n!ggas on the news and start fu*king they hoes, that s*it be tragic (For real)
Put money on n!ggas hats and I’m getting that hat tapped off that static, n!gga
Money, cars and clothes, yeah, clothes, ‘bows and hoes (Clothes, ‘bows and hoes)
B!tch say she love me, I’m like, “Yeah, I know” (I’m like, “Yeah, I know”)
Hm, yeah, Bubba for the low, yeah, b!tch, I got a strong nose (I got a strong nose)
Yeah, whoopty, whosah, whoopty, woo, that’s how s*it go (That’s how s*it go)
Uh, yeah, product of the trenches, fu*king n!ggas b!tches, huh
Man baby Jesus, yeah, fu*ked the whole city, huh, yeah
Pills in my liver, yeah, I got b!tches fu*king b!tches, huh (Hm)
Free my uncle Key, yeah, fighting that life sentence, huh

[Verse 3: Meek Mill & Rob49]
I’m like, “B!tch, I think I’m him” (I am)
That’s what I had said when she asked me who I am (Fu*k a (??))
I was tryna break the rim
Balling like I’m Capo, diamonds jumping out the gym
I ain’t doing M, I ain’t even gotta think hard (S*it too easy)

This ain’t no cash, she tryna fu*k me, she ain’t gotta think hard (It’s too easy)
It ain’t romance, I let this young b!tch hold my bank card (Popping greasy)
It ain’t no cash, so many guns, this s*it like vanguard (For no reason)
S*it ain’t C.O.D
All these n!ggas be like me, s*it, all we fear is G-O-D
His name in some paperwork ’cause he talk to a C-O-P
We cannot have smoke if I can hop you with you V-O-P
We way up at the T-O-P, I hope you can spell, pu*sy (Aah)
She keep telling me that she want deez, like she sell pu*sy
Spinning in them V’s, n!gga know I be where ain’t no 12 looking (Skrrt)
Hundred shot shorty right there in the trenches, feel like hell cooking (Feel like hell)
Jumping on them torches, we can’t even smoke him, he might tell something (Yeah, he might tell)

[Verse 4: Rob49]
N!ggas was tryna s*it, but now they on my d!ck (No they on my d!ck)
Every time I go talk to them d!cks, 49 gon’ plead the fifth (I’ma plead the fifth)
Every time I think about where I come from, I say, “B!tch, I’m him” (B!tch, I’m him)
Every time I go back to the hood, big 10 mil’ on my hip (Brr)
Meek just showed me n!ggas dying, he on some feelings s*it (Some feelings s*it)
I told him we made some mamas cry, b!tch, we on killer s*it (We on killer s*it)
How the fu*k you see a top out in yo’ face and don’t kill that n!gga?
B!tch, I’m G all by my dolo, I don’t need no n!gga (Huh)
I’m the type to put bro on, you the type leave your n!ggas (Huh)
I’m the type to buy that bad ho Chrome, you the type penny pincher (Huh)
Better be lucky, I ain’t a fu*k n!gga, would’ve put ya brother in it (Huh)
N!ggas mad over hoes we fu*k, n!gga, you a mad n!gga, yeah
Million dollas ain’t s*it to us, I’m the type can’t get touched (Huh)
I’m the type to go ghost a , can’t let her fu*k her motion up (Huh)
We the ones went, son, n!gga, ain’t no recruiting us (Recruiting us)
Remember that time I checked dude and he said they ain’t sayin nothing? (ain’t sayin nothing)
Trenches back alive, the killers back outside (The killers back outside)
I’m out the 9, but after Juan died, I left the 9 (Alright)
On Facetime with lil’ G, they say the facts ’cause dude lying (For real)
I’m the hottest in the street, every time I drop, the block hot, yeah (For real)
N!ggas pu*sy, private parts, I shut up and get paid to talk, yeah
High school, sold weed out a jar, yeah, man, I took that s*it too far, yeah
I know dude a ho for sure, he ain’t never have no paw
Only paw he ever knew, was a rat, I don’t wanna talk, yeah
We was dirty growing up, yeah, but I’m rich now, b!tch, it’s up, yeah
Man, we be with superstars, yeah, but Buck still be selling soap, yeah
I’ma let the hood pick it, yeah, I don’t need no A&R, yeah
And before the label s*it, b!tch, we been had A&R’s, yeah