Featured In
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Hotboii
Rap
Trill Bans
Programming
MO
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Javarri Walker
Songwriter
Mohammed Bayoumi
Songwriter
Marko Cervantes
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Trill Bans
Producer
Eddie Hernandez
Mixing Engineer
Raymond Scott
Recording Engineer
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
MO
Producer
Lyrics
(Trill, where the fuck you at?)
Just like Luther King, bitch, I had a dream
I guess it came true, now it's fuck up my jeans
Did what I had to do, I'm fulfilling my needs
Locked up, only place I was going was sleep
Hot how you feel in that cell, that composition, notebook and that pen
Nigga locked down, you ain't got no friends
Nigga locked down, you ain't got no bitch
They tried to indict me, don't want me with bands
I cut my EM, come and catch me, you can't
I told my momma, 'I ain't going to jail no more'
And I did that shit again
I feel them people don't want me to win
I know where I been, I could never forget
To remind me, I take a look at my jit, spread my wings
And they don't want me in the wind
Hotboy cinematic everything he shot gon' get premiered
All I want, for niggas know not to play with me, I don't wanna be feared
How you want smoke, but, you ain't got no funds
All you do is post guns, that shit weird
Runnin' with the K, lil' nigga, I could coach ya'
Do it for the culture, cause I'm that real
I had a dream like Luther
Dreamed that I had ten hoes in my bed
Dreamed I had caught a R.I.C.O
Dreamed I got away from them feds
Long live the King of Illinois
You can't say the 'V' without 'Roy'
It feel like a dream without snoring
Glock 23 don't mean Jordan
See how I was venting
It was just my pen and composition
I didn't want to trust these women, following my intuition
Bottled up my inner feelings, until I explode
We got water bed for wet dreams, I don't want to be woke
Just like Luther King, bitch, I had a dream
I guess it came true, now it's fuck up my jeans
Did what I had to do, I'm fulfilling my needs
Locked up, only place I was going was sleep
Hot how you feel in that cell, that composition, notebook and that pen
Nigga locked down, you ain't got no friends
Nigga locked down, you ain't got no bitch
They tried to indict me, don't want me with bands
I cut my EM, come and catch me, you can't
I told my momma, 'I ain't going to jail no more'
And I did that shit again
I feel them people don't want me to win
I know where I been, I could never forget
To remind me, I take a look at my jit, spread my wings
And they don't want me in the wind
I be sipping, I don't get drunk no more
I don't even be wantin' to give a fuck no more
I be drinking out the bottle, like my cup was broke
Got a crush on Parmesan, I can't love no 'ho
Can't love no more
I don't got love for most
Heart so cold
I don't got love for folk
You already know it, you know
Writer(s): Markos Cervantes, Inconnu Compositeur Auteur
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com