Meek Mill - Hard In Da Paint lyrics

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Meek Mill - Hard In Da Paint lyrics

[Intro: Meek Mill] Ay Rug See these n***as already know what it is with me I go hard in the paint We ain't even got to talk about that Philly in this b**h, heard that [Verse 1: Meek Mill] Rollie on my wrist brighter than my future is Shorty standing there a** fatter than Rasputia is I play for the dream team, hang out with the coolest kids Watch out for my Louie belt cause that's right where my Ruger is I go hard in the muthaf**in' paint n***a Leave you stankin' n***a, what the f** you thinkin' n***a? Five presidents on that presidential Lincoln n***a Gold presidential out the window middle finger n***a f** 'em all that's how I feel sh**ting on these n***as without a deal My money right I'm super strapped Talking all that hammer sh** where your toolie at Ask around the town we be doing that All that white and sour diesel we be moving that That's word to my thirty-six O's I'm still the same n***a with the thirty-six flow In thirty days I'm trying to f** thirty rich hoes I'll still be spitting that flamerz like thirty-six stoves, woah North side 'til the d**h of me, definitely Camero with the black stripe, referee preferably I be feeling myself and I ain't on no Ecstasy But the groupies is and you can tell by how they molested me She gon' s** my dick, she gon' s** it too She gon' f** Omelly, and she gon' f** the crew Now she f** with me, she don't f** with you And that's crazy dawg you know that was your f**ing boo That's the reason why you hating Let the streets say what they want because I'm caking Shout out to all of the n***as that thought that I wouldn't make it They the fakest ones hating while I was in the basement [Verse 2: AR-ab] Where I'm from getting money be the object I get mine putting fire to the Pyrex f** a diss track I bring it to you direct I k** you then the witness die next 44 Bulldog is a 5x You never progress if you only side bet I'm trying to k** two birds with one stone I just grabbed two birds but one gone I supply it well that's my clientele I fire shells if any one of my clients tell They say its a long line to hell But I'ma either get rich or I'ma die in jail Until then I'm only trying to gain revenue Razor blade in a plate full of residue '96 Impala is heaven blue Being broke like you is what I'll never do Purple juice and them Xans got me sleep walking She say n***as like me she don't see often And I don't care if he shot I just keep sparking I make n***as throw towels and make peace offerings I got two baby mommas and we don't speak often I just give them bank rolls and tell them keep walking I just show a b**h money I don't keep talking Then she slob on my knob like she retarded Sour D 4 grams stuffed in the Dutch Fifty grand rubber band tucked in the cut Two b**hes four hands touching my nuts Then I give them long dick touching their gut If money is the topic I get it like Floyd I be OG, moving grams of the [?] If I don't know n***as my hand on toy Cause I'm a f**ing shooter, Brandon Roy My n***a Ca** got the Bent I need the 550 I only blow good smoke the L's 550 You not a real connect if you can't supply fifty My cousin Nas get half cause he'll die with me O.B.H be the set and we gon' get ours' A couple n***as got shot trying to take ours I was in the crack house with eight vowels You was like Eminem off of eight mile In your sh**ty house writing rap songs I use to run in n***as house with the mac on I guess you only need one mic like Nas I'll take a full pound in a white pie Glock 30 compact that's the right size [?] on the stove watch the white rise I'm talking brick sales get your order up I dry cook mine I don't like it watered up

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