Meek Mill – Gave Em Hope Lyrics

Meek Mill new song “Gave Em Hope” lyrics. Track is featured on his new 4-4 EP.

Let them ni**as have the Grammys, we got the streets
We rich already and my chick the baddest
This Rollie like my trophy, young ni**a

When they needed motivation (What you do?)
I gave ’em hope
When my ni**a 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*** that sh*t, we gave ’em soap
They forgot we gave ’em hope

(Verse 1)
I would spend time on that corner trying to set me a hundred though
Strapped with that goggle, Miami to Chicago, we running, uh
I look at these ni**as and I can tell they are not one of us
I ride in the back like a ni**a that came ’round to friend or bust
They had it segregated, bulletproof Caddy, I escalated
Stepped up in my game like a escalator
When you shine like I shine, you get at your haters
Seen ’em roll with the fake and I hesitated
“Wait, these ni**as serious?”, or maybe Meek Milly delirious
Judge had to sentence a ni**a, no period
I’m putting fear in these ni**as, ain’t sparing these ni**as
I cut out your head with a hair on the trigger
Try to reef with my change and I deal with you ni**as
I ill with you ni**as, had the paramedics screaming, “Clear”, on you ni**as
Uh, back in the Phil, we gon’ get to the money and stack at that door ’til we’re way up
‘Member them b**ches? They played us back in the day like a Sega
Now I got paper, young ni**a doing so major
Ni**as is hater, look as they faze us
Yeah, we still balling, b**ch, it’s the Chasers

Repeat Chorus

(Verse 2)
Uh, get to 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 kill, ni**a
But, for real, ni**a, I been taking trips with my Philly ni**as
Got the richest chick, she’s from your hood
Ni**as 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 never 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**k is you high? You know better than that
Mention my name and Berettas with that
I move for real in these streets, in a war with that piece and like metal with that
F**k what you heard, I’m a get mine out the dirt
I’m a just sit back, I’m watching ’em serve
How ni**as, they didn’t rock the wave and they surf
I’m on my surfboard, this what I worked for
Mention my name, that’s sh*t your get murked for
sh*t you get robbed for, sh*t you get killed for
sh*t you can carry boxes in the dirt for, oh

Repeat Chorus