"GastonTwo09nine / Dreams of An Insomniac"
It's that pressure, but I'm solid like them steel pipes
Still screaming that real until these niggas crash my windpipe
Paying a perfect picture
I'm tired of being broke
I need that bread, I need that bread
I'm just tired to have this hope nigga
I want it all
I really thought I told niggas
If it ain't about us it's hard to convert with you
Before discussions about functions not in your budget
And this shit got me sick
But a part of nigga love it
And when Allen got his cover
We figured we started something
We went from checked my email
To niggas checking they luggage
I and my carry on
I just lost my cousin but I carry on
Cause I told them I'll be a Don, no Pérignon
So can you tell me how I feel?
Ain't none of my niggas ate but you'll be bragging bout yo meal
Cause shit, I don't make so many promises and burned so many bridges
That's coming up sure ain't even in the picture, my nigga
You will never know how I feel
It's only me and two others who got me my fucking deal
Immaculate Taste'll tell me:
"When you blow, boy don't forget me"
Well, what if I don't
Will you forgive me?
It's sickening, made me thought of my niggas missing in action
So I practice and keep it pimping
Lack is not my description
When all what you do is dream
But it seems like every nigga be pinching
These blogs won't give me a hit
So I'm screaming: "Fuck with their picture, I'm a stay me
Tryna make a living, pray a nigga never play me"
Nothings been the same since I been talk as of lately
Cause all I see is dope and hope coming from the hood
Where all of my niggas trained to go
Thugging in these streets
Mommas praying that they make it home
Cause none of them niggas are trained to grow
They all got pictures and I'm the nigga to paint it though
Screaming: "Life a bitch"
And I'm like ain't it though
And I mean, I ain't even really wanna you know
Put ya'll in that position to hear that shit
But I mean like sometimes like
When a nigga need answers
And all he come up with is more questions
Like, shit get hectic
Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do right?
Shit, I do
I promised my brothers I'd never fold
I cultivated my art and then I learn to pick my soul
Piece by piece until I found me
In these sheets of paper
I used to write up in my room, every week
I got dreams for being on stage, Pop
Why you still want me to stay, Pop?
I got to go and get it on my own
Cause when I do, they recite my songs
They recite my songs
And it's hard not to feel alone
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