Hard In Da Paint

[Intro: Meek Mill]

Ay Rug

See these niggas already know what it is with me

I go hard in the paint

We ain't even got to talk about that

Philly in this bitch, heard that

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]

Rollie on my wrist brighter than my future is

Shorty standing there ass fatter than Rasputia is

I play for the dream team, hang out with the coolest kids

Watch out for my Louie belt cause that's right where my Ruger is

I go hard in the muthafuckin' paint nigga

Leave you stankin' nigga, what the fuck you thinkin' nigga?

Five presidents on that presidential Lincoln nigga

Gold presidential out the window middle finger nigga

Fuck 'em all that's how I feel

Shitting on these niggas without a deal

My money right I'm super strapped

Talking all that hammer shit where your toolie at

Ask around the town we be doing that

All that white and sour diesel we be moving that

That's word to my thirty-six O's

I'm still the same nigga with the thirty-six flow

In thirty days I'm trying to fuck thirty rich hoes

I'll still be spitting that flamerz like thirty-six stoves, woah

North side 'til the death of me, definitely

Camero with the black stripe, referee preferably

I be feeling myself and I ain't on no Ecstasy

But the groupies is and you can tell by how they molested me

She gon' suck my dick, she gon' suck it too

She gon' fuck Omelly, and she gon' fuck the crew

Now she fuck with me, she don't fuck with you

And that's crazy dawg you know that was your fucking boo

That's the reason why you hating

Let the streets say what they want because I'm caking

Shout out to all of the niggas that thought that I wouldn't make it

They the fakest ones hating while I was in the basement

[Verse 2: AR-AB]

Where I'm from getting money be the object

I get mine putting fire to the Pyrex

Fuck a diss track I bring it to you direct

I kill you then the witness die next

44 Bulldog is a 5x

You never progress if you only side bet

I'm trying to kill two birds with one stone

I just grabbed two birds but one gone

I supply it well that's my clientele

I fire shells if any one of my clients tell

They say its a long line to hell

But I'ma either get rich or I'ma die in jail

Until then I'm only trying to gain revenue

Razor blade in a plate full of residue

'96 Impala is heaven blue

Being broke like you is what I'll never do

Purple juice and them Xans got me sleep walking

She say niggas like me she don't see often

And I don't care if he shot I just keep sparking

I make niggas throw towels and make peace offerings

I got two baby mommas and we don't speak often

I just give them bank rolls and tell them keep walking

I just show a bitch money I don't keep talking

Then she slob on my knob like she retarded

Sour D 4 grams stuffed in the Dutch

Fifty grand rubber band tucked in the cut

Two bitches four hands touching my nuts

Then I give them long dick touching their gut

If money is the topic I get it like Floyd

I be OG, moving grams of the [?]

If I don't know niggas my hand on toy

Cause I'm a fucking shooter, Brandon Roy

My nigga Cass got the Bent I need the 550

I only blow good smoke the L's 550

You not a real connect if you can't supply fifty

My cousin Nas get half cause he'll die with me

O.B.H be the set and we gon' get ours'

A couple niggas got shot trying to take ours

I was in the crack house with eight vowels

You was like Eminem off of 8 Mile

In your shitty house writing rap songs

I use to run in niggas house with the mac on

I guess you only need one mic like Nas

I'll take a full pound in a white pie

Glock 30 compact that's the right size

[?] on the stove watch the white rise

I'm talking brick sales get your order up

I dry cook mine I don't like it watered up