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Meek Mill

Genres: Hip-Hop

Gave Em Hope Lyrics - Meek Mill

Let them niggas have the Grammys, we got the streets 

We rich already and my chick the baddest 

This Rollie like my trophy, young nigga 

 

When they needed motivation (What you do?) 

I gave 'em hope 

When my nigga needed money (What you do?) 

I gave him dope 

Every time we went to war (What we do?) 

We gave 'em smoke 

Fiends was copping, I was broke 

Fuck that shit, we gave 'em soap 

They forgot we gave 'em hope 

 

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I would spend time on that corner trying to stack me a hundred up 

Strapped with that Glock with on my hip shit the coppers was running up 

I look at these niggas and I can tell they are not one of us 

I ride in the back like a nigga that can't ride the front of the bus 

They had it segregated, bulletproof Caddy, I escalated 

Stepped up in my game like a escalator 

When you shine like I shine, you get extra haters 

Seen 'em ride with the fake and I hesitated 

"Wait, these niggas serious?", or maybe Meek Milly delirious 

Judge had to sentence a nigga, no period 

I'm putting fear in these niggas, ain't sparing these niggas 

I cut out your head with a hair on the trigger 

Try to reach for my chain shit I deal with you niggas 

I end one of you niggas, had the paramedics screaming, "Clear", on you niggas 

Uh, back in the Phil, we gon' get to the money and stack up that dough 'til it way up 

'Member them bitches? They played us back in the day like a Sega 

Now I got paper, young nigga doing so major 

Niggas is hater, look as they faces 

Yeah, we still balling, bitch, it's the Chasers 

 

Photos 

 

I gave 'em hope 

When my nigga needed money (What you do?) 

I gave him dope 

Every time we went to war (What we do?) 

We gave 'em smoke 

Fiends was copping, I was broke 

Fuck that shit, we gave 'em soap 

They forgot we gave 'em hope 

 

Uh, look at the money and stack it up 

I talk about it, I bag it up 

You popping shit on your Instagram 

Shit that you're popping ain't adding up 

Shit that you're popping ain't making sense 

I got fifty reasons say you're taking dick 

And it's fifty reasons I should kill, nigga 

But, for real, nigga, I been taking trips with my Philly niggas 

Got the richest chick, she's from your hood 

Niggas hating on me, I ain't really tripping, shit, I'm good 

I be in the 40 with the .40 on me like I should 

I be deep in your hood where you never be at 

Be with them guys that you never could dap 

You could never adapt 

You know the game, if you cosign a rat, you forever a rat 

We were never with that 

You tried to go "Money" May with that paper, but now you in debt cause you never was that 

Fuck is you high? You know better than that 

Mention my name and Berettas with that 

I move for real in these streets, in the world with that piece I'm like Metta with that 

Fuck what you heard, I'm a get mine out the curb 

I'm a just sit back I watch and observe 

How niggas, they didn't ride the wave and they surf 

I'm on my surfboard, this what I worked for 

Mention my name, the shit your get murked for 

Shit you get robbed for, shit you get killed for 

Shit you get carried boxes into church for, oh 

 

I gave 'em hope 

When my nigga needed money (What you do?) 

I gave him dope 

Every time we went to war (What we do?) 

We gave 'em smoke 

Fiends was copping, I was broke 

Fuck that shit, we gave 'em soap 

They forgot we gave 'em hope 

Writer:

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