Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Suono


Interfaccia


Livello di difficoltà


Accento



linguaggio dell'interfaccia

it

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Gestione dei Cookie   |   Supporto   |   FAQ
1
registrati/accedi
Lyrkit

donare

5$

Lyrkit

donare

10$

Lyrkit

donare

20$

Lyrkit

E/o supportarmi sui social. reti:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Meek Mill

War Pain

 

War Pain

(album: 4-4 Pt 2 - 2016)


[Intro Meek Mill:]
Location: Toronto; Status: five star hotel, Four Seasons. Them chumps right upstairs, they know not to come down here playing no real niggas. Mood: I'm still up counting five hundred thousand cash. Nicki in the bedroom sleep, life is good

[Verse 1 Meek Mill:]
I've been in my cell for a week straight
Locked down 24, no more Philip's Steak
Damn, shit's so real it seems fake
Damn, let me take 'em to the green gate
When we was selling white girl
Audemar shining like it need a light bill
These niggas dick ride like they don't even like girls
A hundred thousand for the jet, yeah that's the flight bill
Damn, cost four bricks to go to the LIV nigga
Whole squad on some shit, that's how we live nigga
Twenty-five bad bitches what we did nigga
That's fifty different Louboutins bleeding red nigga
Whew, I ain't blood and I ain't cripping neither
On the phone with the plug talking Justin Bieber
I made a milly last week and I ain't touch it neither
Straight cash tryna give 'em straight gas
Catch you out in Brooklyn, get your chain tooking
My Philly boys'll creep up on you when you ain't looking
With your lil memes, I be with the real queen
Screaming free the real Preme, we be doing real things
Pull up with a bad bitch, whipping something real mean
Marching all these fucking drums on me like a drill team
I be with my young niggas, all they know is kill things
Don't make me make a real scene, uh
See an OVO chain, probably take that shit
Said dreaming wasn't enough, we had to chase that shit
You ain't write it' nigga, we caught ya, can't erase that shit
And you claiming you HOV now? Why you state that shit?
Man I hate that shit, niggas be talking out they face
But soon as you body something they be singing like they Drake
Wait, niggas dancing like they fruitcakes
Hotline Bling don't get no bing up in this new Wraith
Pull up on the plug, swap that bag with the suitcase
DC4 on the way, that's nigga's due date
Robbed you in your city and you told
Tory from the 6, you hating on him, Lord knows
Culture vulture, now it's time to pay the tolls
Soft as the lacrosse team, boy that's word to HOV
No reply, word to God I'm on the floor still
Me and Nicki watching the Sixers, I'm closing more deals
Dreamchasers' double MG, we got the door sealed
Roc Nation, Atlantic Records, I'm on my fourth deal
When I met you, you was on my dick
Asked me to hold the DC chain, now you on some shit
Omelly told me get it back cause he's like "boy's a bitch"
And I'm like, let him get it took cause we gon' charge 'em trips

[Interlude Meek Mill & Omelly:]
Fuckboy, huh charge you triple the way this real nigga stamp.
Chasers, ahh. Location: Philly; Mood: Glock with 30;
Status: triple OG, never been disrespected without retaliation, chump

[Verse 2 Omelly & Meek Mill:]
I've been in the hood for like a year straight
Sipping dirty, it be hard for me to stand straight
Damn, it's time to cut the dead weight
I'm tryna turn my CLS into a red Wraith
When I was selling hard crack you was scared straight
I dropped 9 and bought the Rollie with the red face
Meek the one that got the mil, the one that got the deal
I'm still lamping with the shooters and they popping pills
These niggas like to rap diss they get popped for real
It's time to son these pussy rappers, I'm their pop for real
I'm the type to fuck your mom cause she's a thot for real
And I ain't got one, my pump playing shotgun
Quarterback that Glock, Cam Newton, and you catch a hot one
And for the fam I'll keep shooting until the cops come
Reload, double back, hold up cuz, I got one
Official only respect official and you are not one
No, we are not them, we be on some other shit
Deep in them trenches, ducking narcotics and the government
Tracing the dollar, flipping that product, tryna double shit
Chewing like it's double mint
Man, who you niggas fucking with?

[Omelly:]
Hah, hey Meek Mill man, I'ma start running down on these niggas too. Real rap, these niggas soft and they frauds, check DC record nigga, we flawless. Any nigga stepped up to the fucking plate got rolled over. I ain't just talking to be talking, nigga, check the resume. How many times we got to fuck the city up for you niggas to pay homage. Fuck you niggas talking bout nigga? Slide through 20 deep, I'm talking bout 7 Rolls Royces, 3 Maybachs, 20 Rollies, 30 Cubans, 25 bad bitches, 25 Chanel bags, 6 Caddie trucks, jumbo jets. Stop playing nigga, we came from nothing

Fatto

Hai aggiunto tutte le parole sconosciute di questa canzone?