Lyrics

Meek Mill “War Pain” Lyrics

(Intro: Meek Mill)
Location, Toronto, status – five star hotel, Four Seasons.
Them chumps right upstairs, they know not to come down here playin’ no real ni**as
Mood, I’m still up countin’ five hundred thousand cash
Nicki in the bedroom sleep, life is good

(Verse 1: Meek Mill)
I’ve been in my cell for a week straight
Locked down 24, no more felipe steak
Damn, sh*t’s so real it seems fake
Damn, let me take ’em to the green gate
When we was sellin’ white girl
Audemar shinin’ like it need a light bill
These ni**as d*ck ride like they don’t even like girls
A hundred thousand for the jet, yeah that’s the flight bill
Damn, cost four bricks to go to the LIV ni**a
Whole squad on some sh*t, that’s how we live ni**a
Twenty-five bad b*tches what we did ni**a
That’s fifty different Louboutins bleedin’ red ni**a
Whew, I ain’t blood and I ain’t crippin’ neither
On the phone with the plug talkin’ Justin Bieber
I made milly last week and I ain’t touch it neither
Straight cash tryna give ’em straight gas
Catch you out in Brooklyn, get your chain tookin’
My Philly boys’ll creep up on you when you ain’t lookin’
With your lil memes, I be with the real queen
Screamin’ free the real Preme, we be doin’ real things
Pull up with a bad b*tch, whippin’ somethin’ real mean
Marchin’ all these f**kin’ drums on me like a drill team
I be with my young ni**as, all they know is kill things
Don’t make me make a real scene, uh
See an OVO chain, probably take that sh*t
Said dreamin’ wasn’t enough, we had to chase that sh*t
You ain’t write it’ ni**a, we caught ya, can’t erase that sh*t
And you claimin’ you HOV now? Why you state that sh*t?
Man I hate that sh*t, ni**as be talkin’ out they face
But soon as you body somethin’ they be singin’ like they Drake
Wait, ni**as dancin’ like they fruitcakes
Hotline Bling, don’t get no bing up in this new Wraith
Pull up on the plug, swap that bag with the suitcase
DC4 on the way, that’s ni**a’s due date
Robbed you in your city and you told
Tory from the 6, you hatin’ on him, Lord knows
Culture vulture, now it’s time to pay the tolls
Soft as the lacrosse team, boy that’s word to HOV
No reply, word to God I’m on the floor still
Me and Nicki watchin’ the Sixers, I’m closin’ more deals
Dream chasin’ double MG, we got the door sealed
Roc Nation, Atlantic Records, I’m on my fourth deal
When I met you, you was on my d*ck
Asked me to hold the DC chain, now you want some sh*t
Omelly told me get it back cause he’s like “boy’s a b*tch”
And I’m like, let him get it took cause we gon’ charge ’em trips

(Interlude: Meek Mill &Omelly)
f**kboy, huh charge you triple the way this real ni**a stamp. Chasers, ahh. Location, Philly, mood Glock with 30. Status, triple OG, never been disrespected without retaliation, chump

(Verse 2: Omelly & Meek Mill)
I’ve been in the hood for like a year straight
Sippin’ dirty, it be hard for me to stare straight
Damn, it’s time to cut the dead weight
I’m tryna turn my CLS into a red Wraith
When I was sellin’ hard crack you was scared straight
I dropped 9 and bought the Rollie with the red face
Meek the one that got the mil, that got the deal
I’m still lampin’ with the shooters and they poppin’ pills
These ni**as like to rap diss they get popped for real
It’s time to son these pu**y rappers, I’m their pop for real
I’m the type to f**k your mom cause she’s a thot for real
And I ain’t got one, my pump playin’ shotgun
Quarterback that Glock, Cam Newton, and you catch a hot one
And for the fam I’ll keep shootin’ until the cops come
Reload, double back, hold up cuz, I got one
Official only respect official and you are not one
No, we are not them, we be on some other sh*t
Deep in them trenches, duckin’ narcotics and the government
Tracin’ the dollar, flippin’ that product, tryna double sh*t
Chewing like it’s double mint
Man, who you ni**as f**kin’ with?

(Outro: Omelly)
Hah, hey Meek Mill man, I’ma start running down on these ni**as too.
Real rap, these ni**as soft and they frauds, check DC record ni**a, we flawless.
Any ni**a stepped up to the f**kin’ plate got rolled over.
I ain’t just talkin’ to be talkin’ ni**a, check the resume.
How many times we got to f**k the city up for you ni**as to pay homage.
f**k you ni**as talking bout ni**a? Slide through 20 deep, I’m talkin’ bout 7 Rolls Royces, 3 Maybachs, 20 Rollies, 30 Cubans, 25 bad b*tches, 25 Chanel bags, 6 Caddie trucks, jumbo jacks.
Stop playin’ ni**a, we came from nothin’

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