This is a song about "You ve got my number"

Get my fill on with this grandmother named jill

Yo bitch love me..... she my number one fan,.... uhh *meek mill*

Go nuts, instrumental flow much

I hope you got my message,

Smack 'em out the park, delete their number, that's my last call

They ain't hard, swear to god, these niggas ain't real at all

I mean wow and i’m wowed, no one compares, you must have won

I remember carving each number of victims i killed on my arm

In a turtle neck, thermal jeans, spit purple wine

I'm took my number and i waited in line

We' ve got opportunities to create

On these jealous ass coward cuz they evil and fake

You've only got a set number of years 'till your childhood

Stealin' phones to call home but the line is off the hook

Like the nigga on the block waving his glock but won't squeeze

She was just number one of many girls that fulfilled my fantasies