Meek Mill - Cold Hearted III lyrics

Uh, yeah

I been a gangster since like
Five since my daddy died
Fifty mill' on my account, had to strategize
And when I got it out the mud
I wasn't satisfied
And Lord knows that I was sinnin'
But I got gratified
So that shit got justified
Every time we touch them pies
War with us, we test them guys
Street sweeper gon' dust them guys
Gotta watch 'em close
Some niggas snakes, don't trust them guys
My niggas said they cool, I'm like, "No
Fuck that side" it's only the mob
Rep that shit like it's God
You sign up for this shit, if you switch
You gon' die if you switch, you gon' die
'Cause I remember all them
Nights in my cell, i had a mill' to my name
Bills a hundred grand a month
You ain't hear me complain i'm a G
I take my scars and I wear 'em in pain
You a flea
I cut you off if you chase the fame
You let this money come between us
I ain't barely seen ya
And when you come around
I spin you like a ballerina
Start fallin' back 'cause it got hot
Shit like a jalapeño
And I been clutchin' on my Glock even
Though that I don't mean to
Niggas fake, I don't trust 'em
I wan' dust 'em
I peep they been on some shit
I think it's time to flush 'em
Slide back to back G Wagons
Movin' like the Russians
I'm the only thing that's poppin', of
Course they gon' discuss 'em, woah
I never thought it would come down to this
Ridin' bulletproofs and hundred
Rounds and shit millions off of rappin'
I done found some shit
Deep off in the water, tryna drown some shit
I don't know where I'm goin'
I just know I'ma win
And if I pray on my opps, Lord know I'ma sin
Lord know I'ma sin, yeah
And if I go to the hood
They gon' force me to kill
And if nobody gon' slide, I'ma
Load up and drill, that's no bap
It's no bap, mmm i know what I gotta do
Hov told me 'bout this type
Of shit on volume two
Yeah, it was a hard knock life
But we was mobbin' through
And they could've coupled my niggas
But they was dyin' too
I keep my Glock, one in the head
Got me layin' with this shit with
My son in the bed
And I won't go to sleep 'til
Every one of 'em dead
It's crazy this the type of shit
That go to my head
I'm hangin' 'round with billionaires
But every time that I pop out
A bunch of killers there
Yeah, it's just money
Ain't no feelings here
You wrap the rope and I'm
Gon' push the chair, yeah, ooh
So many lost lives 'cause
Niggas couldn't see
The envy comin' from all sides
You let them niggas talk to you
'bout me and you crossed sides
And when they swing them choppers
I just hope you ain't offsides yeah, mm
Jealousy, envy, self hate

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