Cold Hearted III Lyrics – Meek Mill

Uh, yeah!

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 sinning, but I got gratified
So that Sh*t got justified, every time we touch them pies
War with us, we test them guys
Street sweeper gone dust them guys
Gotta watch 'em close
Some Ni*gas snakes, don't trust them guys
My Ni*gas said they cool, I'm like, "No, fu*k that side"
It's only the mob, rep that Sh*t like it's God
You sign up for this Sh*t, if you switch, you gone die
If you switch, you gone die
'Cuz 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 falling back 'Cuz it got hot, Sh*t like a jalapeño
And I been clutching on my Glock even though
That I don't mean to
Ni*gas fake, I don't trust 'em, I want dust 'em
I peep they been on some Sh*t, I think it's time to flush 'em
Slide back to back G-Wagons, moving like the Russians
I'm the only thing that's popping
Of course they gone discuss 'em, woah
I never thought it would come down to this
Riding bulletproofs and hundred rounds and Sh*t
Millions off of rapping, I done found some Sh*t
Deep off in the water, tryna drown some Sh*t
I don't know where I'm going, 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 gone force me to kill
And if nobody gone slide, I'ma load up and drill
That's no bap
It's no bap, hmm
I know what I gotta do
Hov told me about this type of Sh*t on volume two
Yeah, it was a hard knock life, but we was mobbing through
And they could've coupled my Ni*gas, but they was dying too
I keep my Glock, one in the head
Got me laying with this Sh*t 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 Sh*t that go to my head
I'm hanging '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 gone push the chair, yeah, oh
So many lost lives 'Cuz Ni*gas couldn't see
The envy coming from all sides
You let them Ni*gas talk to you
About me and you crossed sides
And when they swing them choppers
I just hope you ain't offsides
Yeah, hmm
Jealousy, envy, self hate