Cold Hearted III Lyrics – Meek Mill
Singer: Meek Mill
Title: Cold Hearted III
Uh, yeah
I been a gangster since like five since my daddy died
Fifty mill’ on my account, had to strategize
And when I got it out the mud, I wasn’t satisfied
And Lord knows that I was sinnin’, but I got gratified
So that sh#t got justified, every time we touch them pies
War with us, we test them guys
Street sweeper gon’ dust them guys
Gotta watch ’em close
Some n#gg#s snakes, don’t trust them guys
My n#gg#s said they cool, I’m like, “No, f#ck that side”
It’s only the mob, rep that sh#t like it’s God
You sign up for this sh#t, if you switch, you gon’ die
If you switch, you gon’ die
‘Cause I remember all them nights in my cell, I had a mill’ to my name
Bills a hundred grand a month, you ain’t hear me complain
I’m a G, I take my scars and I wear ’em in pain
You a flea, I cut you off if you chase the fame
You let this money come between us, I ain’t barely seen ya
And when you come around, I spin you like a ballerina
Start fallin’ back ’cause it got hot, sh#t like a jalapeño
And I been clutchin’ on my Glock even though that I don’t mean to
n#gg#s fake, I don’t trust ’em, I wan’ dust ’em
I peep they been on some sh#t, I think it’s time to flush ’em
Slide back to back G-Wagons, movin’ like the Russians
I’m the only thing that’s poppin’, of course they gon’ discuss ’em, woah
I never thought it would come down to this
Ridin’ bulletproofs and hundred rounds and sh#t
Millions off of rappin’, I done found some sh#t
Deep off in the water, tryna drown some sh#t
I don’t know where I’m goin’, I just know I’ma win
And if I pray on my opps, Lord know I’ma sin
Lord know I’ma sin, yeah
And if I go to the hood, they gon’ force me to kill
And if nobody gon’ slide, I’ma load up and drill, that’s no bap
It’s no bap, mmm
I know what I gotta do
Hov told me ’bout this type of sh#t on volume two
Yeah, it was a hard knock life, but we was mobbin’ through
And they could’ve coupled my n#gg#s, but they was dyin’ too
I keep my Glock, one in the head
Got me layin’ with this sh#t with my son in the bed
And I won’t go to sleep ’til every one of ’em dead
It’s crazy this the type of sh#t that go to my head
I’m hangin’ ’round with billionaires
But every time that I pop out, a bunch of killers there
Yeah, it’s just money, ain’t no feelings here
You wrap the rope and I’m gon’ push the chair, yeah, ooh
So many lost lives ’cause n#gg#s couldn’t see the envy comin’ from all sides
You let them n#gg#s talk to you ’bout me and you crossed sides
And when they swing them choppers, I just hope you ain’t offsides
Yeah, mm
Jealousy, envy, self hate
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Lyrics Meek Mill – Cold Hearted III
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