I Used to Pray for Times Like This Lyrics – Meek Mill

I Used to Pray for Times Like This Lyrics sung by Meek Mill represents the English Music Ensemble. The name of the song is Dreams and Nightmares (Intro) by Meek Mill.

I Used to Pray for Times Like This Lyrics

[Part I: “Dreams”]

Ain’t this what they’ve been waitin’ for?
You ready? Uh, uh

I used to pray for times like this, to rhyme like this
So I had to
Grind like that to shine like this, in a matter of
Time I spent on some locked-up s^^t, in the back of the
Paddy wagon, cuffs locked on wrists
Seen my dreams unfold, nightmares come true
It was time to marry the game and I said, “Yeah, I do”
If you want it, you gotta see it with a clear-eyed view
Got shorty, she tryna bless me like I said “achoo”
Like a n^^ga sneezed, n^^ga, please, ‘fore them triggers squeeze
I’m gettin’ cream, never let them hoes get in between of what we started
Lil’ n^^ga, but I’m lion-hearted
They love me when I was stuck and they hated when I departed
I go and get it regardless, draw it like I’m an artist
No crawlin’, went straight to walkin’, with foreigns in my garages
All foreign b^^ches ménagin’, f^^kin’, suckin’ and swallowin’
Anything for a dollar, they tell me get ’em, I got ’em
I did it without a album
I did s^^t with Mariah
Lil’ n^^ga, I’m on fire
Icy as a hockey rink, Philly n^^ga, I’m flyer
When I bought the Rolls Royce they thought it was leased
Then I bought that new Ferrari, hater, rest in peace
Hater, rest in peace, rest in peace to the parking lot
Phantom so big, can’t even fit in the parking spot
You ain’t talkin’ ’bout my n^^gas, then what you talkin’ ’bout?
Gangstas move in silence, n^^ga, and I don’t talk a lot
I don’t say a word, I don’t say a word
Was on my grind and now I got what I deserve, f^^k n^^ga (Ah)
Maybach Music

[Part II: “Nightmares”]

Hold up, wait a minute (Minute), y’all thought I was finished? (Woah)
When I bought that Aston Martin, y’all thought it was rented? (Yeah)
Flexin’ on these n^^gas, I’m like Popeye on his spinach
Double M, yeah, that’s my team, Rozay the captain, I’m lieutenant
I’m the type to count a million cash then grind like I’m broke
That Lambo’ my new b^^ch, she don’t ride like my Ghost
I’m ridin’ around my city with my hand strapped on my tote
‘Cause these n^^gas want me dead and I gotta make it back home
‘Cause my mama need that bill money, my son need some milk
These n^^gas try take my life, they f^^k around, get killed
You f^^k around, you f^^k around, you f^^k around, get smoked
‘Cause these Philly n^^gas I brought with me don’t f^^k around, no joke, no
All I know is murder, when it come to me
I got young n^^gas that’s rollin’, I got n^^gas throwin’ B’s
I done did the DOA’s, I done did the KOD’s
Every time I’m in that b^^ch, I get to throwin’ thirty G’s
But now I’m hangin’ out that drop head, I’m ridin’ down on Collins (Skrrt)
They let my n^^ga Ern back home, that young n^^ga be wildin’ (Let’s go)
We young n^^gas, we mobbin’ (Mobbin’), like Batman and we’re robbin’ (Woah)
This two-door Maybach with my seat all reclinin’
I’m like, “Real n^^ga, what up? Real n^^ga, what up?”
If you ain’t about that murder game, then p^^sy n^^ga, shut up (What?)
If you diss me in your raps, I’ll get yo’ p^^sy-a^^ stuck up
When you touchdown in my hood, no, that tour life ain’t good
Catch me down in MIA at that Heat game on wood
With that Puma life on my feet, like that lil’ engine, I could
Boy, I slide down on your block (Block), bike on twelve o’clock (Rah)
And they be throwin’ deuces on the same n^^ga they watch (Meek Milly)
And I’m the king of my city ’cause I’m still callin’ them shots
And these lames talkin’ that bulls^^t the same n^^gas that flopped
I’m the same n^^ga from Berks Street with them nappy braids, that loc’
The same n^^ga that came up and I had to wait for my spot
And these n^^gas hatin’ on me (Me), hoes waitin’ on me (Me)
Still on that hood s^^t, my Rolls-Royce on E
They gon’ remember me, I say remember me
So much money, have yo’ friends turn in yo’ enemies
And when there’s beef, I turn my enemies to memories
With them bricks, they go for forty, ain’t no ten a key
Hold up, broke n^^ga turned rich (Rich), love the game like Mitch (Mitch)
And if I leave, you think them pretty hoes gon’ still s^^k my d^^k?
It was somethin’ ’bout that Rollie when it first touched my wrist
Had me feelin’ like that dope boy when he first touched that brick
I’m gone

Video Song

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