Yeah, Philly in this (*##$!
Loso waddup?


[Verse 1 - Meek Mill]
Check me,
I from the city where the skinny ^!$$%s ride

With a Semi .45 to make the biggest ^!$$%s fold up, roll up
I done seen the realest ^!$$%s froze up
When that Mack squeezing hollows in your back

Leaking that, decent if you want to everytime I come through
Everybody whispering, talking what gon do
Hundred grand in straight cash

Make me put it on you and have your own homies tryna swarm you
I'm sworn to riding with this Glock .40
And I got it on, too

They tell me to put it down
But they don't know what I'm going through
^!$$%s playing checkers and it's chess

So what's a pawn to a king that got his money right?
You ^!$$%s on a hunger strike
Now it's dead-broke, man, I used to grind a hundred a night

A hundred day, selling white, I tell you it ain't nothing nice
I be going so hard, man I don't see my son at night
Baby mama (*##$ing, I'm just trying to get my young'un right

Started with a dollar to a half a ticket
And I just signed my deal today
For all you rapping ^!$$%s. Money ain't a joke

You see me laughing ^!$$%s?
All my goonies they ain't talking, they just clapping ^!$$%s
You gonna think my dogg a roofer, brought a ladder with him

My other homie a mechanic, got his ratchet with him
And they shooting for real, they shooting to kill
I got some mami's up state, they doing the will

I remember ^!$$%s shooting for dear life
30 years on us, cops pull at the red lights
We riding with them hammers

Know a couple young'uns that died before their grandma
I'm not trying to play with hammers
A lot of ^!$$%s fronted back when I was in the slammer

But now I got that paper and I be going bananas