Trauma Meek Mill

[Sample]
Used to be a dreamer
Dreamin' of a fire

[Verse 1]
Uh, my mama used to pray that she'd see me in Yale
It's fucked up she gotta see me in jail
On the visit with Lil Papi, it hurt even though I seemed to be well
They got a smoker with a key to my cell, damn
And even worst, my judge black don't wanna see me do well
It's either that or black people for sale
Gave me two to four years like, "Fuck your life, meet me in hell"
And let it burn like Lucifer, you look even stupider
Tryna impress them people in power when power abusin' us
For 44 dollars a hour, you coward they using ya
Is it self-hate that made you send me upstate?
This where the so-called "real niggas" sweeping up for cupcakes
And that's your phone time, if you ain't got no money, you ain't online
Hey call your son, call your daughter just to wish them more prime
Oh God, don't let them streets get a hold of 'em
Your daughter fuckin' now, it's gon be a cold summer
Your son trapping, and your homie giving O's to him
And if he fuck that paper up, he puttin' holes through him
And you just wanna make it home, so you can show it to him
And them people ain't finna give no parole to ya
They want blood, we all hangin' with a noose on our neck
My celly mom just died, he wanna use my collect
And he won't make it to the wake unless he give 'em a check
We still niggas though, what you expect?