Dreams of an Insomniac

[Verse 1] 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? [Verse 2] 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 [Interlude] And I mean, I ain't even really wanna you know Put yall 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 [Verse 3] 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