Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
J. Stalin

Dreamin

 

Dreamin


City of death, homicide on every corner;
Eight in the morning I'm at the mall tryna buy some Jordan's;
Call me a hoarder, tennis shoes everywhere;
But when you selling coke, you don't have a care.

I'm talkin Peruvian, pure coke white as Cher;
Got it in the trunk like a spare tire;
Money on his head that's murder for hire;
I seen a fiend sell his soul for a dime rock;
Then he came right back and sold his son's X-Box;
I pray to the Lord, this shit gotta stop.

Everybody walk around with 2's on repo[?];
Speakin in codes, tryna get the line on the kilos;
They tappin phones and tryna give us to Rico;
I'm tryna get rich and give back to the people.

CEO no nigga you ain't my equal;
See before, I can see the fake in you;
Cuz you never act like a real nigga do;
Niggas talkin and knocks throwin surprise parties.

But we ready for the beef, nigga Arbie's;
Livewire MC, you see us on them Harley's;

Yeah, it was me nord and bang bang[?]
Nigga, tryna make a mil a day.

[Hook:]
Lyin on my side, in my hand there's a grenade;
On the corner grindin since the tenth grade;
Cuz I only like to dream about, gettin paid;
Cuz I only like to dream about, gettin pain;
40 on my side in my hand there's a grenade;
Still sellin dope, since the tenth grade;
Cuz I only like to dream about, gettin paid;
Cuz I only like to dream about, gettin paid.

Money on my mind, landlord at the door;
Tryna kick a nigga out cuz I'm sellin dope;
Import export, money in the transaction;
Bangers on me always, killas in my fuckin faction.

You niggas savin bitches like Ansel[?] Jackson;
These hoes settin niggas up and ask 'em what happened;
He gotta have it my nigga and he just can't kick it;
Therefore, his digits is limited.

[Hook]

Livin life wicked, tryna touch a mil ticket;
Get it on the streets then send it to the niggas in prison;
Cuz I can see you fake niggas through this tunnel vision;
Disloyal see a nigga shot and then his blood boil;
In the kitchen my mama cookin it to the oil;
Get the birds cross state, to the Georgetown hoils[?];

Now I'm in the Porsche, it feel like 500 horses;
Now I'm in the Porsche, it feel like 500 horses.

[Hook]

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?