Testo In The Room - Dreamville feat. JID, Tierra Whack & BJ The Chicago Kid
Testo della canzone In The Room (Dreamville feat. JID, Tierra Whack & BJ The Chicago Kid), tratta dall'album Creed III: The Soundtrack
Top up from the bottom, nigga
I'm from the, I'm from the, I'm from the, goddamn
Real stupid ass, look, uh
Niggas with a whole lot of problems (damn)
How I'm finna make it to the top from the bottom?
Burying the bird in the bottle (damn)
Mom say she finna get the belt or get the Bible
I can see a rival on arrival, huh (oh, shit)
He can let it sing like the bullets in the rifle
Anything to take a nigga title, shit
Guess I'm a un-American idol
I guess I'm another nigga they lied to, turned a blind eye to
So in the meantime, I'ma grind 'til I find you
Pull up on yo' set like tape decks, rewind you
Remind you, I been in my prime, I had to fine tune
Never poured my four, niggas is swine flu
Far as you rap, dorks get in the line
Don't get out of line, I'm out of my motherfuckin' mind, more than most of the time
Bet they want press, but they close to the line
Throwin' rocks at a star, hope he respond
'Cause if we gon' step, never stop on a dime
And if that's your opp, then I'm Optimus Prime
Pray to God, now I'm watchin' for signs
Weed crackle like the pops on a vinyl
No hand me that handy Glock for survival
Hit me back from the block with the hostiles, hmm?
They think they the one 'til the real one walk in the room
Yeah, that's right, I said it (yeah, yeah, yeah)
They think they the one 'til the real one walk in the room
Yeah, now let that shit marinate (God)
(Ooh-ooh-ooh)
Yeah, let that shit marinate
Hold on, let me get a tight grip
Every time your fans see me, they askin' to take pics
Been ahead of my class since I was grade six
If it don't make me money, it probably don't make sense
I'm so good at makin' you second-guess yourself (one?)
I be smoking niggas and it effects h- (two)
Sit with it, I shifted it, I'm quick with it
Maybe you should sit with it, cherish every moment
I bury my opponent (yeah), they can't believe I wrote it (yeah)
I be goin' hamster, rodent (uh, what? Uh)
Had a soul, and you sold it, I'm bloated and devoted
Once they let the sink in, they gon' all say I floated
You need to work harder if your money can't be folded (yeah)
Better real, you know it (yeah), why would you compete? (Ooh)
Really, I be chillin' 'cause I'm known to overheat
Oh, you said you smell somethin'? Well, it must be defeat, queen
(Ooh, oh-oh-oh)
You can bring your friends, even bring your mans
Hundred thousand men, it don't matter, man
We still gettin' in just to get it in (huh, huh, huh, ayy)
They think they the one, 'til the real one walk in the room
Yeah, that's right, I said it (yeah, yeah, yeah)
They think they the one 'til the real one walk in the room (oh), yeah
Now let that shit marinate (ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh) (ayy)
Yeah, let that shit marinate
Credits
Writer(s): James Brown, Bryan James Sledge, Thomas Lee Brown, Asheton Terrance O'neil Hogan, Destin Route, Tyrone William Griffin Jr., Tierra Whack, Fred A. Jr. Wesley, James Starks
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