Meanwhile Lyrics - Don Trip

Only time will tell 

Offer these niggas too much time they gone tell 

Only grind by myself 

Couple lines of the lean and liter (any my heater) 

Ain't trying to take a L 

Took a loss 

Then I learned 

What I bought bitch I earned 

Fake rap niggas steady lying to themselves (nah 

Couple nights ago my fifth time making bail 

Took my FN 

Got my nine in my belt 

No GPS help me find myself 

Look inside my heart 

All the kindness then left 

Eyes all dry 

And crying don't help 

Winners won't quit 

That's why I don't fail 

Yea 

And I know all about being fucked up 

Won't nobody give you nothing 

Call it tough love 

No joke 

It'll break a nigga spirits when you broke 

That the shit that taught me how to hustle 

Meanwhile 

The bills still coming 

I ain't got enough money 

I can feel it in my stomach 

I ain't chilling till a nigga get a million every month 

You ain't with it 

Man there ain't nothing 

I can feel it yeah it's coming 

Meanwhile 

The bills still coming 

I ain't got enough money 

I can feel it in my stomach 

I ain't chilling till a nigga get a million every month 

You ain't with it 

Man there ain't nothing 

I can feel it yeah it's coming 

My balls and my word 

That's all I have 

I don't trust shit 

You can fault my past 

The money bring temporary friends and hoes 

I've been through them all and it taught my ass 

Dirty as the tires and the rental I'm in 

All that work and I never clocked in 

Can't do nothing but shake my head when I think about all of the money I spent 

2% tint on that black 550 

If a nigga come get me 

He gone have to die with me 

AR15 short enough to ride with me 

I'm too rich to catch the bus 

But too broke to buy a Bentley 

Second thought I could've bought two 

Still getting three or four for a walk through 

I lost money, lost friends, lost love and love ones 

No wonder I got lost screws 

Blowing smoke in the air 

I got P's everywhere 

Woreseome ass bitch won't stay out of my ear 

Woke feeling like the player of the year 

I put the syrup down 

Po'd a glass of Belvedere 

You ever been fucked up (Nigga hell yeah) 

That's why I go so hard on these fuck niggas 

Meanwhile I'm looking for a stash house in Bel Air 

I'm fucked up in the mental 

I don't trust niggas 

My childhood was a wild hood 

Niggas getting murked in our hood 

This life that we living nigga this shit ain't all good 

Four grams of that super cookie in my backwoods 

Jewelry box full of gold but I use to play them up 

Pull up in the hood and all the bitches want hugs 

If she roll the weed good I'll buy the bitch a pair of Uggs 

Still jump out on the block with my niggas smoking blunts 

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