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The Trillest

アーティスト：Meek Mill  アルバム：Dreams Worth More Than Money  作曲：J. NG, J. Peters & R. Williams 

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Was the money good? Was em bitches bad? Was they fuckin' good? Did your hood show you love? Did the hoes say you fly? If your friends say you're loyal, throw your rollies in the sky For the trillest, for the trillest As the champagne pours and the campaign roars And the lights shine bright every night they applaud for the trillest See my momma cry too many tears And we been broke like too many years It ain't too many kids, a couple homies, there ain't too many there And they all gotta eat, they got too many kids To many kids with no fathers, doing too many bids Too many bids, judge gave 'em kids too many years As soon as you get that money, that's as soon they appear Assuming you 'em owe something, they assuming you’ll share And yeah, I've been losin' touch with my family, it ain't the same I should've gave my sister some money, but I made it rain I should've hit the crib with my son and played a game But instead I ended up at the jeweller to make a chain It's a sad saying when you make money it make you change Like four quarters, the fourth quarter, I make a lane Shit, I had to walk for it they talkin' 'bout takin' trains And takin' planes, I put the work in and made the name But the question is Was the money good? Was them bitches bad? Was they fuckin' good? Did your hood show you love? Did the hoes say you fly? If your friends say you're loyal, throw your rollies in the sky For the trillest, for the trillest As the champagne pours and the campaign roars And the lights shine bright every night they applaud for the trillest I never wanted to be like Mike, I wanted to be like Mitch Now all the lil niggas wanna be like this I wear my chain in any city, let you see my shit Cause I earned that, it's on me, I'mma keep my shit I got blood on my money, ether in my soul Do you know the feeling durin' Easter with no clothes? Now it's stars in the ceiling, bringing ether out the Rolls With the curtains on the windows, I'm just peekin' at my goals Money made me iller, already was realer Young kings killin' young kings over skrilla That's why I ride around mac on me like I was Miller Or Reggie when I shoot for that three They drop fetty, that's good money Come to my city, we talk heavy and die young When we get some paper, we cop Prezis and ride rim 20 inch rims for the dope boy



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