LyricsSweet Dreams

Joey Bada$$

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Last update on: July 25, 2017
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First I wake up, wake up, thinking of a plan to get my cake up, cake up Cause I can't pay the rent with school papers I need two acres and more

I know how it feel walking out the door pockets out of dough Out it doe, be on the flow We smoking endo, but we out doe, adios My audio getting me that Audi or the range rov Mahogany colored clothing, my hog in the road Drive slow, cruising down memory lane before I hit the streets Have my melody playing, creators just lie with my (?) Had her between guys, I think I'm married to Jane I remember the days when I'd forever complain That's way before they started paying, I was in pain Sick in the brain like I never met a physicist yet Only lyricist on my metaphysics intellect Sweet dreams, stuck in the 90s 90s babies it's a matter of time Sweet dreams my nigga, I wish you sweet dreams my nigga Sweet dreams, stuck in the 90s 90s babies it's a matter of time And time's not rewinding, yeah Round two bout, half of this loud dude Dont let them hounds snoop and get soundproofed High frequency sounds too Has statik spot over serious statik shots Scrap vinyls over them statik pops Im a fanatic fly but a sporadic guy Never chat a lot, just pass the loud (lawd) and guide the youth Still with the truth, Nigga nothin less When the playbutton pressed Killswitches feel it hit ya chest And meet your death, if im caught on the fence know hell hit ya Yes true vets keeps it real whichya Ill wit ya, show you the real picture Only keep the ones around that suffer from ills whichya Cuz when them suckas, see ya suffer And your cake getting richer and your pockets gettin thicker Thats when they want you to remember a nigga But when I handed you the tape you couldn't remember to listen Been on my grind, I keep it 50-50 Thats 100 on the real, no balance scales, still trippy Where I live it's either you know talents well and sell records Or no talent, well we still sell for the record Somehow the rap game reminds me of the trap game In fact is the exact same, and these tracks is my crack caine And if you listening then you a fan Our music is the cure like some vaccines I'm exotic to the core so stop asking Got the blueprints to the game, but I read it as king There's 47 ways to get this green One is being an enslaved being, the other dreams Red pill or blue bean, I can't sit still I'm too lean, nigga Brush my bill on (?) Niggas on my tail now that I blew green

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