Meek Mill - Bullet Wit Ya Name lyrics

[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]