Текст песни Pray For Em - Meek Mill
DC,
unos,
dos,
tres,
cuatro
Free
El
Chapo!
Fuck
your
bitch,
get
a
bag
from
her,
then
I
never
call
her
Now
she
trippin',
goin'
crazy,
nigga
tell
her
let
up
off
us
OGs
see
me
comin'
through
and
they
say,
"That's
a
baller"
That's
that
nigga
really
started
from
the
bottom
really
in
that
order
Make
a
call,
bring
them
plans
down
Smokin'
loud
like
surround
sound
Niggas
wanna
come
around
now
Cause
they
know
that
Meek
Milly
got
the
crown
now
Put
my
mask
on,
put
the
crown
down
Tell
'em
turn
up
When
it
come
to
action,
niggas
ride
with
me
Screamin'
murder
Niggas
fallin'
off,
bitches
fallin'
through
Callin'
plays
like
an
audible
Get
that
money,
what
you
oughta
do
Need
the
plug,
got
them
niggas
callin'
too
Put
you
on,
nigga,
put
you
on,
I
can
put
you
on
What
you
doin',
nigga,
what
you
doin',
nigga,
what
you
doin'?
Get
the
bag
but
don't
write
triller
You
around
cause
you
paid
niggas
In
the
dark
when
we
spray
niggas
When
we
run
into
you,
we
ain't
playin'
with
you
Meek
put
a
rapper
on
CNN
Niggas
said
I
wouldn't
eat
again
I
just
counted
5 mil'
in
cash
I'm
a
real
nigga
they
won't
see
again
Pray
to
my
God
we
don't
go
to
the
feds
We
don't
go
to
the
feds
I
pray
all
that
money
don't
go
to
my
head
Don't
go
to
my
head
I
pray
on
my
Glock
when
I'm
goin'
to
bed
When
I'm
goin'
to
bed
Now
pray
for
the
suckas
that
wanted
me
dead
Cause
all
of
'em
dead!
Fuck
'em
People
locked
me,
put
them
chains
on
me
Wonder
why
I
got
these
chains
on
me
Audemars,
I
got
a
range
on
me
Shit
a
hundred
thousand
ain't
a
thing
to
me
What's
your
range,
homie?
This
another
level
Flood
the
Rollie,
get
another
bezel
She
don't
dig
me,
get
another
shovel
Go
and
get
the
money,
we
don't
ever
settle
Went
to
jail,
came
back
home,
then
I
got
rich,
damn
Went
to
jail
again,
then
I
came
home
then
I
got
Nick,
damn
Niggas
prayin'
that
I
go
to
jail
again
so
they
can
pop
shit,
damn
Only
trap
nigga
doin'
real
numbers
spittin'
hot
shit
Niggas
hatin'
cause
my
numbers
down,
what'd
you
do,
50?
20
somethin',
I
did
250
MAC
11
hit
you
20
times,
now
you
Harlem
Shaking
like
you
Diddy
Pop
niggas
spittin'
melodies
when
it's
really
nothin'
they
can
do
with
me
Ballin'
on
'em
ain't
new
to
me,
fuckin'
bitches
ain't
new
to
me
Summers,
summers
10
summers
I've
been
at
my
tempo
like
I'm
Mustard
At
the
Grammys
with
the
hustlers
With
the
trappin',
you
a
busta
Spillin'
lean
on
the
red
carpet
Phone
tapped,
I
hear
the
feds
talkin'
Still
trappin'
out
the
bando
Moonwalkin'
on
that
damn
marble
Ballin',
ballin',
ballin',
ballin',
ballin'
Ballin'
on
'em
like
I'm
James
Harden
I
don't
drive
it
if
it
ain't
foreign
I
don't
fuck
it
if
it
ain't
foreign
Still
eatin'
and
I
ain't
tourin',
nigga
gettin'
it
Got
that
ladder
with
me
with
the
33,
I'm
Scottie
Pippen
it
Pray
to
my
God
we
don't
go
to
the
feds
We
don't
go
to
the
feds
I
pray
all
that
money
don't
go
to
my
head
Don't
go
to
my
head
I
pray
on
my
Glock
when
I'm
goin'
to
bed
When
I'm
goin'
to
bed
Now
pray
for
the
suckas
that
wanted
me
dead
Cause
all
of
'em
dead!
Fuck
'em
Ballin',
ballin',
ballin',
ballin',
ballin'
Ballin'
on
'em
like
I'm
James
Harden
I
don't
drive
it
if
it
ain't
foreign
I
don't
fuck
it
if
it
ain't
foreign
Still
eatin'
and
I
ain't
tourin',
nigga
gettin'
it
Got
that
ladder
with
me
with
the
33,
I'm
Scottie
Pippen
it
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