-fuck about the n***as you killed
Or the bodies you got
I send my n***as through to body your block
Run in your crib ima chop all on your mommy and pop
We on the highway to hell, is you riding or not?
You need work? just meet me at the top of the block
I got it in by the ten and twenty dollars a pop
What you need? coke, weed, is you copping or not?
Cuz you wasting time, dog, my block hotter than hot
But who the fuck want what? none of yall
You killed one of mine ima kill some of yall
Man ion wanna brawl, i wanna war it out
With guns dumping off, and blood pouring out
Now what this boy about? im bout my money, yall
Cuz when you broke as a joke, ain't shit funny, dog
Jump outta pocket, ima cock and let the muffle off
The AR hit your arm, hit em up the wall
Show you how i get that dough
You gotta x out blocks and move o's like tic tac toe
Find a connect, get that blow
That'll have your fiends racing like on your marks, get set, go
Im the n***a with the sick ass flow and the hot lines
Im on the corner like the stop signs
By the chinese store, eyes low like a chinese boy
Two twins like a siamese, boy
You dont know, im a grimy boy
I'll creep up, body boy, flip kick like karate
Time is money ion got a second to waste
So try taking mine, i'll put the tec in your face
Slash to the nine if you try to step in my way
Put the shotty to your body, blow your section away, pussy
Your death date must have been set for today
Cuz youre talking like youre walking with a vest and a K
Run in your crib with the S in a A, game over
They find you there sick missing the rest of your face
Look, they call me Meek Mill and ion play that shit
I keep a K with 50 shots and i'll spray that shit, pussy
If you dont mean it, dont say that shit
Cuz the shell size of a L that make your maybach flip
Man i hate that shit, n***as be talking out they face
But soon as you body something they be talking to the jakes
Man im talking with my eight, fuck arguing with you
Im putting all of em in you, they gotta chalk you from the gate
Cuz i ain't playing with you, i let this can hit you
Run up on you broad day, murk you while your man with you
And he was strapped with a strap but he ran on you
Then they gotta call the coroners and vans for you
Just to get you up, body bagged, zip you up
Cuz yous a done for, n***a, what you come for?
This a grown man game, yous a young boy
That mac 10 hold 50 plus one more
N***as rep it hard from the set to the yard
Bring a tec and revolver when its drama
Ima monster, and i got connects for the raw
There you go, aide a O
Its the best and its soft
When youre stressed on the yard
You thinking that im scared of you?
I'll put you in a box like cereal
Man, i ain't spiritual, but i'll leave this n***a holy like a bible
With my 3030 rifle, slide a n***a back, spin em 'round like Michael Jackson
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