Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song No Church in the Wild (Feat. Rick Ross), artist - Meek Mill. Album song Mr. Philadelphia, in the genre Нью-эйджDate of issue: 22.01.2013
Record label: AAA
Song language: English
No Church in the Wild (Feat. Rick Ross) |
| Prime 112 behind the double doors |
| As I rewind the devils floors |
| Paths cross, of course your life lost |
| «Patience a virtue. |
| Heard that you’re the boss» |
| Your informant’s correct |
| Now give me enormous respect |
| Cornered the game, record label on his chain |
| Right hand on the bible watch the flow catch flame |
| Margielas on her feet |
| Now she riding with a lame all jealous in the Jeep |
| All the lil homies wanna eat |
| But we never settle beef |
| So settle your debts before there’s any regrets |
| Gino do the graffitti and Black Evander with the Tech |
| My girls say that I’m a mess |
| DJ Khaled say I’m the best |
| And my city do too |
| 20 in the trunk, that’s how city boys move |
| 8.9, now the crib got a view |
| Mandarin manicure, DEA in pursuit |
| Champagne and a Rolex, Rose |
| No church for a d-boy: let’s pray |
| Ain’t no church in the wild for a nigga like me |
| In the game so foul in a world full of sin |
| Where the love flow thin |
| And the pain run deep |
| Cause it’s blood in the streets |
| See the stains on the money, No love for the weak |
| Where it rain, never sunny, just mud on a beach |
| Where a hater sticks to you like mud on a cleat |
| Thanksgiving with the birds just drugs for a feast |
| Young’n only 13 with a snub in his fleece |
| Even though his heart’s cold, he in love with the heat |
| See the high in his eyes, hear the slugs in his speech |
| From the bottom out of Philly, I emerge from the east |
| Peace! |
| At the dealer talking Bugatti talk |
| You never heard it like Illuminati talk |
| Tell em haters that it’s my mama’s fault |
| Breaking bricks — you would think we talking karate talk |
| Young niggas with old money |
| Never trust a nigga that said «let me hold something» |
| Never trust a bitch that tell you she ain’t blown nothing |
| The Weathermen never tell me about these cold summers |
| Tears dripped on my dad casket |
| Niggas turned me into a bastard |
| Glock 40 on me is plastic |
| Get to reaching I’m squeezing on him and clapping |
| And I ain’t talking about assemblies |
| I’m talking head-shots where niggas won’t remember me |
| I asked God please remove my enemies |
| I was surprised when I lost niggas that was friends of me |