[Verse: Meek Mill]
The summer nights can even turn cold
In the streets of Philly where n***as don't even get to turn old
My heart pumping till it turn gold
You n***as stuck in neutral, I'm ridin' like fuck it, it's a long road
Shit I'm the one, I'm like the lost soul
In the middle with heaven and hell
See n***a, only god knows
When your time gon' come and your eyes roll
Straight to the back, now you seeing all black
That mac go lean and that nine go clap
This that murder murder music to rewind you back
Put that Ruger all up to you, watch your mind go splat
All over the wall, n***a, all over that raw
It's the same 'ole Meek, still the same OG
Got that crack music, listen, let your brain OD
I'll be playing low key
Me and one of my n***as
Riding through the city, plotting on some of the n***as
That be thinking they gon' get me
I'ma run to you n***as
And that's a couple dead bodies for a couple of n***as, yeah
Monster, sitting like a mobster
Revolver on my lap
Barrel full of Black Talons
I lick it at your squadron
Roll up, like hold up
Start spitting while I'm driving
Peel off then roll up, you n***as better slow up
Before you bang the fuck out
I aim, let it flame, blow your brains all the fuck out
All over your shirt, since a youngin' I was buck wild
All up in the dirt, ma screaming, get the fuck out!
North where I was raised at, South Philly I played that
Wherever I'm around I hold it down like a wave cap
Yeah, my n***as stay strapped
Blaze and I'ma blaze back
All over that yolk and get your motherfucking egg cracked
Northside a Berks Streeta, Southside a Eight Balla
Posted by the green gate, cops come, we scrape on 'em
N***as dropping tapes on 'em
Trying to get us locked down
Snitchin' to the district
That's enough to get ya chopped down
That nine parabellum, fuck around and get a n***a momma cerebellum
They ain't riding, man they tellin' I be sliding with a seven
All titanium, big boy sound, jump around when I'm flaming him
Me I play my role, getting hoes like I'm Chamberlin
Same one you kissed, same one that give me cranium!
Every time I touch a gun, all I hear is Damien
Tryna pipe me up to rock a n***a like-