Meek Mill & Rick Ross - Believe It текст песни

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



Авторы: ROBERTS WILLIAM, WILLIAMS ROBERT RIHMEEK, WALKER ROSHUN D


Meek Mill & Rick Ross - Dreams and Nightmares
Альбом Dreams and Nightmares
дата релиза
30-10-2012




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