Broad Day

Yeah, yeah
We all in the race, yeah
Ay, Hit
How we gonna lose with shit like this, my nigga?
Hit-Boy, look

Nightmares in broad day, pray I get to sleep
I should A&R the game, pick you nigga's beats

Honestly, I send hotter shit to your e-mail
Tedious with the detail
Pickin' a pocket apart, callin' a blitz
Gettin' looks from them crackers, we all in the Ritz
Niggas said they with the shits, that all was a myth
Marathon, pace it out, you caught in a sprint

Show me who you are once, ain't gotta show me twice
You can't sell like Eminem, you look like Obie Trice
Down to take a rubber bullet for my voting rights
Real nigga, I ain't gotta sign into no device, bitch

Fuck being famous, you niggas overrated
Pull cards no Vegas, Smack DVD, Shea Davis
Fuck with my Detroit niggas, ay, Siri, play Capers
Big boy toys pushing through the barricade

Got they face lookin' like a episode of Scared Straight
Scared money don't make no money
Diamonds from Cheyenne, and my necklace, shit it's stunning
Word to my niggas in the Bay, we goin' dummy

Nightmares in broad day, pray I get to sleep
I should A&R the game, pick you nigga's beats

This ain't a movie or nothing
Black plight associate lootin' Louis with justice
Prayin' for the sons of man and all of my cousins
You ain't piece up on the plan, don't come to the function

Look, remember playin' my demos and they cut 'em off
Still kept a winner mentality and stayed involved
Losin' myself would be my toughest loss
Catch plays one-handed, my era Randy Moss

Grew up playin' quarterback club, while my relli bagged up
Wishin' I could stack somethin'
Wilson Middle, sixth grade, I was tryna crack somethin'
Some niggas gave they life to the Lord now they back thuggin'

Nightmares in broad day, pray I get to sleep
I should A&R the game, pick you nigga's beats
Facts though

Look, makin' it shake 'til my day, man this ain't the same
I pick up the pieces every time it's make or break
Base to base, hit like Griffey Jr. in his playing days

Do it for niggas hustlin'
Tryna get off an onion 'fore the federals bust in
Too many of us strugglin', that's unbecoming
If I'm not gon' be the one to change the world, I know my son is

The sky is calm, the stars are bright (for real though)
And what's better than to be in flight? (Shoutout Rodney B., look)
I re-

HB beatin' up the percussion
You waitin' on me to peak, I'm just approaching my summit
Since it's going off, I'm so close, I can touch it
Scouring the lot, this summer, might get the rose-tint

Downtown, divin' in my bag at Dover
Pushin' a toy, not talkin' Toyota
Waiting on the call when my dawg say he comin' home
Keep it rock solid even when they throwin' stones

Set me free



Credits
Writer(s): Chauncey A. Hollis, Eugene Booker Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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