Murder She Wrote Lyrics by Meek Mill & Byron Messia
(Feat. Byron Messia)
Loyalty before the riches
Yeah
When that thing go ring, nobody seen it, but they heard that shit
Spilling…
Pretty little ting say that she love me, you know I murdered it
Sat right out the porch with my Glock on my block and I start serving it
Standing on the corner where my daddy died outside like I ain’t learned from shit
Murder she wrote that
How many died and how many go back?
Every Glock haffi load up
‘Cause nobody me trust ah
A murder she wrote that
Badikhetti gunshot
A murder she wrote that
She wrote that, yeah
Wrote it, she wrote, I wrap my homies in diamonds and gold
Riding a Ghost, but for the most, for the live and the rose
Fucking them slow like I don’t know she selling her soul
Real bad man, on the corner, on the last man
Turn on the sweeper, see the reaper in a caravan
We don’t fear with these hitters, he a scared man
Racks on his head, bang, boom, he a dead man
I’ve been in the trenches with this shit like I was Redman
I sense if a nigga come around and he a fed man
Saint Kitts, I run around with Byron, make a mess then
Island bitches telling me they ain’t never had no Tesla investor
I leveled up from Trax with the compressor
Now I’m living luxurious, Maybach with the chauffeur
Oops, I’m the chauffeur
This one is the Virgil, the one look like a sofa
When she got inside, she rode me like a coaster
I ain’t even knock it ’cause she did what she supposed to
If I nut inside, shit, had to be Oprah
Real trap baby out the trenches, going global
Byron!
Murder she wrote that
How many died and how many go back?
Every Glock haffi load up
‘Cause nobody me trust ah
A murder she wrote that
Badikhetti gunshot
A murder she wrote that
She wrote that, yeah
Like fat man, white lad
Poo a man and drive by, you know I went cat
Chumbo, bu-bu-bu, it’s a lot
Can nobody be leaving, not a clamor
Same thing happening to mine
God, this system no care about that
Make a thing semi-turn fully not
Fucked up inna the place where we living ah
Just want see me team win
Want make a million a week and I feel it with Meek Mill
Killers in Achieva, with the clubs sound like them cool keeping
Boy get beaten
Just like mother when she return from PTA meeting
And just me and me iPhone reasoning
‘Cause the street fucked up and so deceptive
Murder she wrote that
How many died and how many go back?
Every Glock haffi load up
‘Cause nobody me trust ah
A murder she wrote that
Badikhetti gunshot
A murder she wrote that
She wrote that, yeah
