Cold Hearted III lyrics

[Intro]

Uh, yeah

[Verse]

I been a gangster since like five since my daddy died

Fifty mill' on my account, had to strategize

And when I got it out the mud, I wasn't satisfied

And Lord knows that I was sinnin', but I got gratified

So that shit got justified, every time we touch them pies

War with us, we test them guys

Street sweeper gon' dust them guys

Gotta watch 'em close

Some niggas snakes, don't trust them guys

My niggas said they cool, I'm like, "No, fuck that side"

It's only the mob, rep that shit like it's God

You sign up for this shit, if you switch, you gon' die

If you switch, you gon' die

'Cause I remember all them nights in my cell, I had a mill' to my name

Bills a hundred grand a month, you ain't hear me complain

I'm a G, I take my scars and I wear 'em in pain

You a flea, I cut you off if you chase the fame

You let this money come between us, I ain't barely seen ya

And when you come around, I spin you like a ballerina

Start fallin' back 'cause it got hot, shit like a jalapeño

And I been clutchin' on my Glock even though that I don't mean to

Niggas fake, I don't trust 'em, I wan' dust 'em

I peep they been on some shit, I think it's time to flush 'em

Slide back to back G-Wagons, movin' like the Russians

I'm the only thing that's poppin', of course they gon' discuss 'em, woah

I never thought it would come down to this

Ridin' bulletproofs and hundred rounds and shit

Millions off of rappin', I done found some shit

Deep off in the water, tryna drown some shit

I don't know where I'm goin', I just know I'ma win

And if I pray on my opps, Lord know I'ma sin

Lord know I'ma sin, yeah

And if I go to the hood, they gon' force me to kill

And if nobody gon' slide, I'ma load up and drill, that's no bap

It's no bap, mmm

I know what I gotta do

Hov told me 'bout this type of shit on volume two

Yeah, it was a hard knock life, but we was mobbin' through

And they could've coupled my niggas, but they was dyin' too

I keep my Glock, one in the head

Got me layin' with this shit with my son in the bed

And I won't go to sleep 'til every one of 'em dead

It's crazy this the type of shit that go to my head

I'm hangin' 'round with billionaires

But every time that I pop out, a bunch of killers there

Yeah, it's just money, ain't no feelings here

You wrap the rope and I'm gon' push the chair, yeah, ooh

So many lost lives 'cause niggas couldn't see the envy comin' from all sides

You let them niggas talk to you 'bout me and you crossed sides

And when they swing them choppers, I just hope you ain't offsides

Yeah, mm

Jealousy, envy, self hate

• Artist:Meek Mill
• Album:Expensive Pain (2021)