Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Championships, artist - Meek Mill. Date of issue: 29.11.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Championships |
| All the youngins in my hood popping percs now |
| Gettin' high they get by, it’s gettin' worse now |
| You gotta tell 'em put them guns and the percs down |
| Them new jails got ten yards in 'em and that’s your first down, uh |
| And I ain’t come here to preach |
| I just had to say somethin' 'cause I’m the one with the reach |
| Youngin' gotta quarter ounce, he tryna turn into Meech |
| Ain’t had no daddy, he’s had to learn from the streets |
| I used to be a honor roll student, damn |
| Then I turned to a beast |
| The first time I seen a nigga get some blood on his sneaks |
| He had on Air Max 93s but was slumped in the street |
| His mama cryin', that there’s a sign to me, oh Lord |
| The shit I’m doin' for my hood I won’t get an Award |
| I used to sell Reggie, damn how' I get to the Forbes |
| I take a shot if I miss I’m gettin' on boards |
| Ain’t quittin' no more, like give me some more |
| We went Old Navy it felt like Christian Dior |
| Was dead broke but rich in soul, was we really that poor? |
| Was we really that dumb? |
| 'Cause we carry a gun |
| And every nigga in my neighborhood carryin' one |
| 'Cause we had nightmares of our mamas got to bury her son |
| I’m speakin' to you as a prophet as rare as they come, uh |
| Gunshots sound like music hangin' out the Buick |
| Why you wanna be a shooter? |
| Mama told me not to do it but I did it |
| Now I’m locked up in a prison |
| Callin' mama like I shouldn’t have did it |
| Watch my dream shatter in an instant |
| I’m on a visit posin' for the picture |
| Like I’m going for my prom or somethin' |
| Like I ain’t facing time or somethin' |
| Ride for these niggas like that shit ain’t hurt my mom or somethin' |
| Only one gon' get me commissary or even buy me somethin' |
| When it all fall down |
| I can call y’all now |
| Even if I hit your phone |
| That won’t get me home |
| Seen so many different times, these niggas did me wrong |
| Shit that’s the reason that I did this song |
| Shit we was kids used to play on the step |
| A couple years later we flirtin' with the angel of death |
| I was eleven years old, I got my hands on the Tec |
| When I first touched it that shit gave me a rush |
| My homie’s dying I’m like «Maybe we next» |
| That just made me a threat |
| Knowin' the niggas smoke my daddy it just made me upset |
| Made me a man shit I was five when God gave me my test |
| Go to court with a court apointed and he won’t say object |
| Now it’s you against the state and you ain’t got no cake |
| Jail overpopulated they ain’t got no space |
| I know a youngin' that got murked ain’t get to drive no Wraith |
| But he in hearse on the way to church, I know his mom gon' faint |
| When she smell like embalment fluid, cologne all on her baby |
| Pastor said he sendin' you home, she goin' crazy |
| When they drop that casket all in the ground, who gon' save me? |
| How could you blame me? |
| When I’m tryna stay alive and just survive and beat |
| them odds when niggas die by twenty-five |
| When I stop fearin' for my life, when I decide to change my mind And stop tokin' |
| Tryna smoke the pain away, they lock us up for smoking |
| Put 'em on probation, lock you up if you ain’t perfect |
| Victims of the system like a rain drop in the ocean |
| They closin' all the schools and all the prisons gettin' open |
| Yeah |
| See comin' from where I come from |
| We had to beat the streets |
| Beat the system, beat racism, beat poverty |
| And now we made it through all that we at the championship |