Big Boogie & CMG The Label – Meant Dat Lyrics

Meant Dat

Big Boogie & CMG The Label

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"Meant Dat." - Big Boogie & CMG The Label

Sunday, 25 October 2026, 05:08 am

Album: Gangsta Art

Track No: 25

(Ha)
Boo' (Yeah)
(Damn, Mario, stop playin')
Big dude (Big dude, big dude, baby, big dude)
I run this shit, ****
Frrt
(Ayy, Carter Z, you goin' too crazy)
Check this, bitch, bitch, I'm a rich **** right now (Bitch, I'm a rich ****)
I'm thankin' my haters for keepin' (Ooh), my name hot (Ooh), big dude livin' it right now (I'm like that)
Bad bitch toxic, I'm givin' her backshots, I got her drillin' it right now (Oh, oh)
She told me she love me, I told her "You movin' too fast, you killin' me right now" (Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up)
Bitch, I'm the hottest **** in the country (Boog'), I got her feelin' me right now (Big Boog')
Not friendly with ****, I'm friendly with triggers, on me, you can get this shit right now (Rrr)
I'm talkin' 'bout literally right now (Right now)
Kung-fu chopsticks, fight now (Hwah)
Backward aeroplane, kite now (Gone)
I'm swingin' my chains, no lights now (Ice)
I'm throwin' that meeting to tell all my **** to chill out, we hot as tamales
My Haitian, he hungry, but don't want no food, my lil' homie want him a body (Roo)
These **** brag about what they done did, bitch, he ain't shot nobody (Bitch, he ain't shot nobody)
How you gon' rat on your ****? He shot for you, **** (How?), you know that ain't solid (How? How?)
Ain't no pressure on shit on Earth, them facts, bitch, check out my pockets (Check out them—)
Smokin' on dead'nem profit (Gone), i8 all star, serve 'sace (Ooh)
Big dude, baby, no cocky (Ooh)
Ten millimeter, big beam, shoot rockets (Boom, boom)
Internet killers be sloppy, how you gon' win against me and I'm poppin'? (I'm Boog')
CMG dissin', I don't rock it (Rock it)
**** don't like me, they know I'm the topic (I'm the topic)
They wanna be me, they look at my pictures and statuses ready to copy (See Boo', look at 'em)
Bitches be groupies 'bout all these rappers, they really fuck with who poppin' (Go look at 'em)
These whack-ass **** be floppin'
Rush Hour bullets be choppin' (Frrt)
Lambo, ride with extendo, dread head murder **** hangin' out the window (Window)
Mimi slide in a Sprinter (Skrrt-skrrt), it's aunty Mimi, jump out the rental
Murder, forever on go, who wanna know? We got the info (Info)
We got that work like a stove, we got them 'bows, trap out the bando
Slide in the city with Dracs and choppers, (Rrr), we tryna slide (Gone)
We tryna catch us an opp, they be talkin' on Facebook, pussy gon' die
My **** dump out whatever, they drivin' whatever, just long as it drive
Them **** killed my lil' brother, it's cool on murder, don't think that you sly
**** bitches, ain't gon' slide, treat an opp pool water, we'll dive
Catch him at the weddin', pussy **** sweatin', fucked 'em, we knocked off the bride (Cool)
Brent and Jim and Q fucked up my head, long nights, still cryin' (Damn)
Soon as I get off the road, a vest and a T-shirt, them **** dyin' (Frrt, on me)
They got me fucked up (Fucked up)
Draco a rabbit, it jump up (Rrr)
Murder like clippers, get touched up
Toxic lil' mama, I'm fuckin' her guts up (Ooh, ooh)
I act like a fool, dummy
Pockets, they Crip, got blue hundreds (It got blue hundreds)
Bitch, I'm a shoes junky (Shoes junky)
Prada my kicks, a few hundred (A few hundred)
Big Boogie
See, my young **** gon' slide, you understand?
You feel me?
But the true part about this shit
My sisters gon' slide just as hard, you understand? Fuck it
All these suckers
I've been seein' you hatin' for a long time, man (Blrrrd)
But that shit ain't gon' stop nothin', man
Ayy, man, we big dog steppin', ****

Writer(s): John Lotts, Zwart Carter James, Garcia Mario Garca Junior & Donavant Mitchell Dean.

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