[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
Them n***as talking reckless I get them gunned down
Choppa style goons lurking when the sun down
n***as throwing bullets trying to get a touchdown
You catch them like Fitzgerald n***a when that clip spill
I've seen n***as go upstate with wills
Beat their appeal make it home then get k**ed
Cause sh** real n***a up in Philadel
I wet you and leave a hole in your head like k**er whale
Free Willy and Meek Milly
He really bout that ask a n***a vouch that
p**y n***a softer than a pillow top mattress
Rappers actors like Samuel L. Jackson
n***as throwing money, they don't even own a crib yet
And they ain't send no money to their n***as doing the bid yet
You ain't even buy that Playstation for your kids yet
But you making it rain you a f**ing lame
[Hook: Meek Mill]
I got a bullet with ya name on it
Catch you slipping sunny day come and rain on it
n***as talking that sh** 'til we slide up on them start sparking that sh**
You get a concrete pillow in the coffin for your bed
I have n***as looking for you like there's money on your head
I'ma k** you when I catch you I'ma k** you ya
[Verse 2: Meek Mill]
I hear them pussies talking
They talking reckless about me
But when I see them n***as I going to catch some wreck a body
I'm talking shots fired, got a man down
Coppers walkie talkie, over stand down
Shots still shooting choppers still chopping
I ain't trap in like a year but the block still popping
n***as hating on me they don't got an option
Cause I'm shining perfect timing
Like a diamond VVS sh**
n***as can't f** with me I'm like their ex b**h
I'm on that homicide ride or die x sh**
44 revolver wild wild west sh**
n***as talking reckless now they on my wreck list
d**h wish bullets hit your front back exit
Ya hollow heads just to bobble heads
And if we spot him there then we drop him there
[Hook: Meek Mill]
[Verse 3: Manny Wellz]
Many many men [?]
But f** a vest I keep a tec up on me
f** his chest I hit his head hit his face and hit his neck when I squeeze
[?] f** it
Look we really do this here
We all shooters here
Thirty rounds in that four pound Ruger ya
Come through here like you gon' talk sh** out
You won't be walking out you be walking down
Bullets pounding from front to rear
Doctors yelling clear and the n***a flatline
He been dead shots hit his chest came out his backside
We murder and snatch guys
Take them to their stash spot
Search the premises until some money holler jackpot
I'm on my own, thirty shots in the clip of my chrome
I'm on your top little n***as is on
I know some real live street n***as I can hit on the phone
And get you shot broad day in your dome
[Hook: Meek Mill]