MitchyLago - Insomnia

I take a few drugs and I go to the moon
I go get some water pour that on my jewels
By the end of the week she in love with the crew
Money keep calling what I'm sposed to do
I can't get no sleep I be making these moves
Hop in a jag and that bitch got no roof
Niggas be hating I know they all do
I don't wanna kick it I don't know Kung fu
I don't take no L's, I only take checks
I'll just call ya bitch if I needed some neck
If I spend a whole bag I could get it right back
My Money don't fold so I let it all stack
I be on some shit
I really be trapping
My bitch really bad
No I ain't cappin
I turned on this beat she start twerking
So I had to hop in my birkin
I know that these niggas be lurking
But my shooters really put work in
My money is blue
You know how I move
I'm chillin wit gang
I'm keeping my cool
I make more classics than violins
Hop in the boof and start wilding
She like the way I be styling
I want more money than violence
Fuck ya rights I'm keeping silent
My money gonna keep piling
I'm always on point I be watching my back
With all of this money I know I can't Lack
Talk shit in the comments I never write back
Cus they never say it in person
I make a wave they start surfing
It's harder for me to determine
Who is my best and my worse friends
These niggas be hating
These bitches be mad
I know they all praying
That I'm doing bad
Fuck envy get money
You niggas be sad
It look like I swam to the surface
Hop in a wraith close the curtains
Now these bitches really be thirsting
Stop calling my phone got no service
I take a few drugs and I go to the moon
I go get some water pour that on my jewels
By the end of the week she in love with the crew
Money keep calling what I'm sposed to do
I can't get no sleep I be making these moves
Hop in a jag and that bitch got no roof
Niggas be hating I know they all do
I don't wanna kick it I don't know Kung fu
They don't wanna see me flourish
But I know that this is my purpose
I feel I'm stuck in a circus
All of these clowns make me nervous
My gang on your head like a turban
Every night I be thinking bout my friends
Free all of my dogs on the island
I see demons in my eyelids
You make a wrong move
And my gang on ya back
Got nothing to prove
You could check on stats
He could say he ya dog
And then turn to a rat
Get caught throwing salt
You get hit with the Mac
They knock ya head off
Turn you into a pack
We making them run out of hearses
My gang really out here they purging
All gas no brakes no reversing

Written by:
MASON RICHARD SMITH

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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