Текст песни Believe It - Meek Mill & Rick Ross
Let
them
niggas
have
the
Grammys,
we
got
the
streets
We
rich
already
and
my
chick
the
baddest
This
Rollie
like
my
trophy,
young
nigga
When
they
needed
motivation
(What
you
do?)
I
gave
'em
hope
When
my
nigga
needed
money
(What
you
do?)
I
gave
him
dope
Every
time
we
went
to
war
(What
we
do?)
We
gave
'em
smoke
Fiends
was
copping,
I
was
broke
Fuck
that
shit,
we
gave
'em
soap
They
forgot
we
gave
'em
hope
I
would
spend
time
on
that
corner
trying
to
stack
me
a
hundred
up
Strapped
with
that
Glock
with
on
my
hip
shit
the
coppers
was
running
up
I
look
at
these
niggas
and
I
can
tell
they
are
not
one
of
us
I
ride
in
the
back
like
a
nigga
that
can't
ride
the
front
of
the
bus
They
had
it
segregated,
bulletproof
Caddy,
I
escalated
Stepped
up
in
my
game
like
a
escalator
When
you
shine
like
I
shine,
you
get
extra
haters
Seen
'em
ride
with
the
fake
and
I
hesitated
"Wait,
these
niggas
serious?",
or
maybe
Meek
Milly
delirious
Judge
had
to
sentence
a
nigga,
no
period
I'm
putting
fear
in
these
niggas,
ain't
sparing
these
niggas
I
cut
out
your
head
with
a
hair
on
the
trigger
Try
to
reach
for
my
chain
shit
I
deal
with
you
niggas
I
end
one
of
you
niggas,
had
the
paramedics
screaming,
"Clear",
on
you
niggas
Uh,
back
in
the
Phil,
we
gon'
get
to
the
money
and
stack
up
that
dough
'til
it
way
up
'Member
them
bitches?
They
played
us
back
in
the
day
like
a
Sega
Now
I
got
paper,
young
nigga
doing
so
major
Niggas
is
hater,
look
as
they
faces
Yeah,
we
still
balling,
bitch,
it's
the
Chasers
I
gave
'em
hope
When
my
nigga
needed
money
(What
you
do?)
I
gave
him
dope
Every
time
we
went
to
war
(What
we
do?)
We
gave
'em
smoke
Fiends
was
copping,
I
was
broke
Fuck
that
shit,
we
gave
'em
soap
They
forgot
we
gave
'em
hope
Uh,
look
at
the
money
and
stack
it
up
I
talk
about
it,
I
bag
it
up
You
popping
shit
on
your
Instagram
Shit
that
you're
popping
ain't
adding
up
Shit
that
you're
popping
ain't
making
sense
I
got
fifty
reasons
say
you're
taking
dick
And
it's
fifty
reasons
I
should
kill,
nigga
But,
for
real,
nigga,
I
been
taking
trips
with
my
Philly
niggas
Got
the
richest
chick,
she's
from
your
hood
Niggas
hating
on
me,
I
ain't
really
tripping,
shit,
I'm
good
I
be
in
the
40
with
the
.40
on
me
like
I
should
I
be
deep
in
your
hood
where
you
never
be
at
Be
with
them
guys
that
you
never
could
dap
You
could
never
adapt
You
know
the
game,
if
you
cosign
a
rat,
you
forever
a
rat
We
were
never
with
that
You
tried
to
go
"Money"
May
with
that
paper,
but
now
you
in
debt
cause
you
never
was
that
Fuck
is
you
high?
You
know
better
than
that
Mention
my
name
and
Berettas
with
that
I
move
for
real
in
these
streets,
in
the
world
with
that
piece
I'm
like
Metta
with
that
Fuck
what
you
heard,
I'm
a
get
mine
out
the
curb
I'm
a
just
sit
back,
I'm
watching
'em
serve
How
niggas,
they
didn't
ride
the
wave
and
they
surf
I'm
on
my
surfboard,
this
what
I
worked
for
Mention
my
name,
the
shit
your
get
murked
for
Shit
you
get
robbed
for,
shit
you
get
killed
for
Shit
you
get
carried
boxes
into
church
for,
oh
I
gave
'em
hope
When
my
nigga
needed
money
(What
you
do?)
I
gave
him
dope
Every
time
we
went
to
war
(What
we
do?)
We
gave
'em
smoke
Fiends
was
copping,
I
was
broke
Fuck
that
shit,
we
gave
'em
soap
They
forgot
we
gave
'em
hope
1 Young & Gettin' It
2 Traumatized
3 Real N***** Come First
4 Who You're Around
5 Who Your Around
6 Tony Story, Part 2
7 Tony Story, Pt. 2
8 Lay Up
9 Young Kings
10 Maybach Curtains
11 Maybach Curtains
12 Believe It
Еще альбомы Meek Mill & Rick Ross
Внимание! Не стесняйтесь оставлять отзывы.