Meek Mill – Otherside of America Lyrics | Audio

Meek Mill – Otherside of America Lyrics

What do you have to lose
You’re living poverty
Your schools are no good
You have no jobs
58% of your youth is unemployed
What the hell do you have to lose
Reportin’ live from the other side of America

Mama let me sip the forty
I was just a shawty
Then I started spittin’ Godly
And then I say Record me
I feel like this s**t was for me
This s**t, this my story, yeah

Uh, drown out the Porsche
Uh, I got a Porsche, won’t take it back
I’m on the block with the killers and ho
And my own, of course, yeah
I seen my mom and dad seperate and talkin’ divorce
Said daddy was livin’ by the fire
And he died by the torch

I’m where the AK’s is, we like the Bay-Bay kids
AR’s and .., ain’t listen to suckers the same way that Ray Ray did
I’m totin’ Smith & n’s and HK’s and I was just a grade eight kid
Ain’t got no guidance, we grew up with hitters
And did everything they said
Point out the block, we spinnin’ that
Run in the spot, we gettin’ that
Give us some work, we flippin’ that
I’m hittin’ for .. ain’t have it back
I need a lawyer, money for commissary, ain’t nobody sendin’ that
All in my cell like When I get out, I’m makin’ a movie, no cinemax

Huh, yeah, back home and I’m fresh on bail
Phone chirpin’, it was next to Tell
Block poppin’, it was extra sell
Big dogs, they ain’t showin’ remorse
I was beggin’ just to catch a sell
Same block, we was goin’ to war
I was prayin’ I ain’t catch a shell, yeah

Uh, we ain’ starvin’ for a thousand nights
Livin’ like we tryna die tonight
Glock .40 sound like dynamite
I was f**kin’ up my cop money
Sellin’ soap like it’s China White
OG’s said You f**kin’ the block up
I was mad, I was tryna fight
N**ga, we hungry
Momma at work, daddy, he dead, n**ga we lonely
Stomach growling like a, AMG going to bed, we hungry
Uzi on me, all my friends are dead, n**ga we lonely
Reporting live from the other side of America

Reportin’ live from the other side
Same corner where my brothers died
Livin’ life, we ain’t got care
Tell my momma I ain’t dyin’ here
.40 on me, I ain’t buyin’ beer
Ain’t have a will, now I’m flyin’ Lear
Bunch of felons on the jet with me, make a movie like it’s ..
Started off in the basement, now it’s rooftops that’s burnin’
Still fightin’ open cases, out on bail, n**ga, but it’s my year
Summer time, n**ga caught up
Peta on me like it’s Moncler
Closet bigger than my whole house
Thinkin’ ’bout it, I was fine there

Came in the dirt
Dedicated, I was makin’ it work
Medicated, I was takin’ them percs
Devastated when my n**gas got murked
Agitated, had to get to it first
I knew trappin’, it would get me in jail
Playin’ with pistols, it would get me a hearse
But I ain’t give a f**k, send me to church
Yeah, they gotta catch me in traffic
I ain’t with none of this rap s**t
I been turned away from these caskets
All this pain, put tell me n**ga
You don’t want none of the action
Go get some money and feed your fam
‘Cause this is a f**kin’ disaster, yeah

Uh, we ain’ starvin’ for a thousand nights
Livin’ like we tryna die tonight
Glock .40 sound like dynamite
I was f**kin’ up my cop money
Sellin’ soap like it’s China White
OG’s said You f**kin’ the block up
I was mad, I was tryna fight
N**ga, we hungry
Momma at work, daddy, he dead, n**ga we lonely
Stomach growling like a, AMG going to bed, we hungry
Uzi on me, all my friends are dead, n**ga we lonely
Reporting live from the other side of America

I always dreamed of being like on CNN
And being able to like express myself
And speak for the voice of young men of America
The first step, I would say
I grew up in American in a ruthless neighbourhood
Where we were not protected by police
We grew up in a ruthless environment
We grew up around murder, you see murder
You see seven people die in a week
I think you would carry a gun yourself
Would you
Ahh yeah, I probably would…

➤ Written by Meek Mill
Album: Dreamchasers 4.5
Meek Mill | 2020