In God We Trust

Meek Mill

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    See most of y'all sucka ass niggas wouldn't last a week in my hood if you was broke
    And wouldn't last a day if you had money
    I seen grown men cry, grown men die, for the love of that money
    In god we trust!

    My trigger finger itchin', palms itchin' too
    We back-to-back in ghosts, playin' peek-a-boo
    We went to war with sosa over a brick or two
    So for a hundred ki's, think what my clique could do
    I'm talkin' clappin' toasts, bullets'll hit your roof
    They hit his body he went in shock, no pikachu
    Niggas ain’t bout it they talkin’ but really pick and choose
    We on our second strike, we ain’t got shit to lose
    All my niggas is felons, all you niggas is tellin’
    Sold your soul to them people, they gon’ get you to sell it
    They gon’ get you to move it, they gon’ get you a buick
    They gon’ get you a wire, like niggas gon’ use it
    You gon’ tell on your brothas, what a lame homie
    I got a bullet with your name on it, and a full clip i autographed
    Kids cryin’ at the viewing, i guess it was upset

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    We done went to war with the realest, shot it out with the best
    Talkin’ high-end guerillas, banana clips make a mess
    I seen young niggas cry, i seen young niggas fold
    I seen young niggas die because a young nigga told
    For the love of the money, for the love of the money
    For the love of the money, love of the money
    Man, them young niggas hungry, for the love of the money
    I seen real niggas cry, i seen real niggas hit
    I seen real niggas die, cuz a real nigga snitch
    In god we trust

    Lotta niggas act tony-like
    Told them d's everything you heard but that’s your homie right
    But he got killers lurkin’ outside at your home tonight
    They gon’ hit the crib and kill the kids, oh that’s kony right
    Oh that’s kony-like, everybody bleed
    Cuz he come out in 2060, christmas eve
    First time he went to prison he ain’t get to leave
    Feds takin’ pictures, niggas is rats, you should say cheese
    Once a local dude, shit the fire now
    Never ever spit a rap but he got bars now
    I’m talkin fed time, yard up, yard down
    Baby mama can’t pay the bills, shit is hard now
    How that make you feel, you should pay them bills
    Ma spittin in them trays when they make yo’ meal
    Niggas shittin’ out them packs just to take them pills
    And his baby mama brought em in, boy this shit is real
    Niggas turn to muslim, niggas turn to christian
    They gave him life, he try’n appeal it, got him on a mission
    His homies ain’t learn, they still in the kitchen
    They firin’ bullshit, that coka ain’t swimmin’
    It’s coming up short, no food on the fork
    Niggas is catchin’ cases, niggas is goin’ to court
    He done slaved in the field, you the one on the porch
    With the gun in your hand, try and run with the man

    Hey look, i’ma tell you like this
    If you in school nigga, stay in school
    If you got a job nigga, stay at work
    If you a family man, stay with your muhfuckin’ family nigga
    Cuz this shit ain’t meant for everybody dawg
    Everybody talk that shit, until they get caught up in some real shit
    And then they start talkin’ that shit

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Kenoe, Meek Mill y Black Metaphor

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