Lowe-Fi - Nightmare_01 Lyrics

Wonder they all gon' mean to me (Ya)
Wonder they all gon' see from me (Ya)
Wonder they all gon' want and if I'm gon' change mother f*cka don't breathe on me (Ya)
Pulling up feeling I'm important
You pulling up bummy with informants
You the kinda dummy that'll go, going talking all that shit like you rich and get extorted
You the kinda bitch that I'm ignoring
Cuz running up your mouth in the club don't change what you recording
You still same and boring and I'm thinking

Damn I'm getting cozy, pull up like I'm hot shit
Fortys, drinking bottles till I'm nauseas
Kobe, ain't getting boxed out or boxed in
Know me, imma different breed give a f*ck about a list
Only VV I'll be rocking is the jeans that I'll be copping for a dollar out my pocket they was made in 96'
And I'm still gon' get it popping Salma Hayek in the Ritz
Goddamn this the shit

What you wanna know like?
How I catch a flow right?
Or how I go and boast on the track just to turn it back around and start hating on my own life?

Baby but the crude and simple fact is
I could lift my spirits with some practice
Couple simple steps, I done went and mapped it
Step one
Stop lifting spirits to my lips till I'm blacked out spilling out my guts on this dirty f*cking mattress
Step two
Cut off all these leeches I'm attracting
Impeding on my actions
Leave em in the past tense
Three
Let these f*ckers know that they never gon' be me
And it ain't about the flow or how I'm murdering the beat
But it's simply how I go and maneuver through the street
(We) pull up hunnid deep have us looking like a fleet
And I grab a microphone have them jumping off their feet
Something shifting when I speak have em thinking for a week
(Stop)
You could pull that bullshit out your closet
Talking all that talk but you ain't walked it
Here I go again like Jacky stop this
Sick to my stomach
Blissfully running
To a ditch and I wonder
If Im rich will it fix all the pins and needles that just be digging in my skull and
Now I'm back
F*ck round with me ya you tough behind the track
I just want a beat I don't care bout getting racks
You don't need no beef you ain't doing nothing whack
I'm just Laying out the facts
I want Lily James yelling out my name throwing back and showing ass

We getting

Cozy, pull up like I'm hot shit
Fortys, drinking bottles till I'm nauseas
Kobe, ain't getting boxed out or boxed in
Know me, imma different breed give a f*ck about a list
Only VV I'll be rocking is the jeans that I'll be copping for a dollar out my pocket they was made in 96'
And I'm still gon' get it popping Salma Hayek in the Ritz
Goddamn this the shit

(Afraid? you don't even know what afraid is.)