Yaymhm.

I don't give a fuck about the niggas you killed

Or the bodies you got

I send my niggas 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 bul 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 nigga 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 bul

Two twins like a siamese, bul

You dont know, im a grimy bul

I'll creep up, body bul, flip kick like karate

Time is money I ain't 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 you talking like you walking with a vest and a K

Run in your crib with the S n the 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, niggas 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, merc 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 youse a done for, nigga, what you come for?

This a grown man game, youse a young bul

That mac 10 hold 50 plus one more

Niggas 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 nigga holy like a bible

With my 3030 rifle, slide a nigga back, spin em 'round like Michael Jackson

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