Pray for 'Em - Meek Mill

DC, unos, dos, tres, cuatro

Free El Chapo!

Fuck your bitch, get a bag from her, then I never call her

Now she trippin', goin' crazy, nigga tell her let up off us

OGs see me comin' through and they say, "That's a baller"

That's that nigga really started from the bottom really in that order

Make a call, bring them plans down

Smokin' loud like surround sound

Niggas wanna come around now

Cause they know that Meek Milly got the crown now

Put my mask on, put the crown down

Tell 'em turn up

When it come to action, niggas ride with me

Screamin' murder

Niggas fallin' off, bitches fallin' through

Callin' plays like an audible

Get that money, what you oughta do

Need the plug, got them niggas callin' too

Put you on, nigga, put you on, I can put you on

What you doin', nigga, what you doin', nigga, what you doin'?

Get the bag but don't write triller

You around cause you paid niggas

In the dark when we spray niggas

When we run into you, we ain't playin' with you

Meek put a rapper on CNN

Niggas said I wouldn't eat again

I just counted 5 mil' in cash

I'm a real nigga they won't see again

Pray to my God we don't go to the feds

We don't go to the feds

I pray all that money don't go to my head

Don't go to my head

I pray on my Glock when I'm goin' to bed

When I'm goin' to bed

Now pray for the suckas that wanted me dead

Cause all of 'em dead! Fuck 'em

People locked me, put them chains on me

Wonder why I got these chains on me

Audemars, I got a range on me

Shit a hundred thousand ain't a thing to me

What's your range, homie? This another level

Flood the Rollie, get another bezel

She don't dig me, get another shovel

Go and get the money, we don't ever settle

Went to jail, came back home, then I got rich, damn

Went to jail again, then I came home then I got Nick, damn

Niggas prayin' that I go to jail again so they can pop shit, damn

Only trap nigga doin' real numbers spittin' hot shit

Niggas hatin' cause my numbers down, what'd you do, 50?

20 somethin', I did 250

MAC 11 hit you 20 times, now you Harlem Shaking like you Diddy

Pop niggas spittin' melodies when it's really nothin' they can do with me

Ballin' on 'em ain't new to me, fuckin' bitches ain't new to me

Summers, summers

10 summers I've been at my tempo like I'm Mustard

At the Grammys with the hustlers

With the trappin', you a busta

Spillin' lean on the red carpet

Phone tapped, I hear the feds talkin'

Still trappin' out the bando

Moonwalkin' on that damn marble

Ballin', ballin', ballin', ballin', ballin'

Ballin' on 'em like I'm James Harden

I don't drive it if it ain't foreign

I don't fuck it if it ain't foreign

Still eatin' and I ain't tourin', nigga gettin' it

Got that ladder with me with the 33, I'm Scottie Pippen it

Pray to my God we don't go to the feds

We don't go to the feds

I pray all that money don't go to my head

Don't go to my head

I pray on my Glock when I'm goin' to bed

When I'm goin' to bed

Now pray for the suckas that wanted me dead

Cause all of 'em dead! Fuck 'em

Ballin', ballin', ballin', ballin', ballin'

Ballin' on 'em like I'm James Harden

I don't drive it if it ain't foreign

I don't fuck it if it ain't foreign

Still eatin' and I ain't tourin', nigga gettin' it

Got that ladder with me with the 33, I'm Scottie Pippen it