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gave 'em hope - meek mill lyrics

[intro]
let them n-ggas have the grammys, we got the streets
we rich already and my chick the baddest
this rollie like my trophy, young n-gga

[hook]
when they needed motivation (what you do?)
i gave ’em hope
when my n-gga needed money (what you do?)
i gave him dope
every time we went to war (what we do?)
we gave ’em smoke
fiends was copping, i was broke
f-ck that sh-t, we gave ’em soap
they forgot we gave ’em hope

[verse 1]
i would spend time on that corner trying to stack me a hundred up
strapped with that glock with on my hip sh-t the coppers was running up
i look at these n-ggas and i can tell they are not one of us
i ride in the back like a n-gga that can’t ride the front of the bus
they had it segregated, bulletproof caddy, i escalated
stepped up in my game like a escalator
when you shine like i shine, you get extra haters
seen ’em ride with the fake and i hesitated
“wait, these n-ggas serious?”, or maybe meek milly delirious
judge had to sentence a n-gga, no period
i’m putting fear in these n-ggas, ain’t sparing these n-ggas
i cut out your head with a hair on the trigger
try to reach for my chain sh-t i deal with you n-ggas
i end one of you n-ggas, had the paramedics screaming, “clear”, on you n-ggas
uh, back in the phil, we gon’ get to the money and stack up that dough ’til it way up
‘member them b-tches? they played us back in the day like a sega
now i got paper, young n-gga doing so major
n-ggas is hater, look as they faces
yeah, we still balling, b-tch, it’s the chasers

[hook]
i gave ’em hope
when my n-gga needed money (what you do?)
i gave him dope
every time we went to war (what we do?)
we gave ’em smoke
fiends was copping, i was broke
f-ck that sh-t, we gave ’em soap
they forgot we gave ’em hope

[verse 2]
uh, look at the money and stack it up
i talk about it, i bag it up
you popping sh-t on your instagram
sh-t that you’re popping ain’t adding up
sh-t that you’re popping ain’t making sense
i got fifty reasons say you’re taking d-ck
and it’s fifty reasons i should k!ll, n-gga
but, for real, n-gga, i been taking trips with my philly n-ggas
got the richest chick, she’s from your hood
n-ggas hating on me, i ain’t really tripping, sh-t, i’m good
i be in the 40 with the .40 on me like i should
i be deep in your hood where you never be at
be with them guys that you never could dap
you could never adapt
you know the game, if you cosign a rat, you forever a rat
we were never with that
you tried to go “money” may with that paper, but now you in debt cause you never was that
f-ck is you high? you know better than that
mention my name and berettas with that
i move for real in these streets, in the world with that piece i’m like metta with that
f-ck what you heard, i’m a get mine out the curb
i’m a just sit back i watch and observe
how n-ggas, they didn’t ride the wave and they surf
i’m on my surfboard, this what i worked for
mention my name, the sh-t your get murked for
sh-t you get robbed for, sh-t you get k!lled for
sh-t you get carried boxes into church for, oh

- meek mill lyrics

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