Ghost
Walk with a glock, and it pop with a beam
Caught out your park, and we mopping you clean
Stuck in a nightmare just chasing my dream
This life feels fake, but it's also real mean
One, two, pick your damn head up
Three, four, get your damn bread up
Five, six, seven, eight, i'm fed up
Nine, ten, 11, 12, I wont let up
Walk with a glock, and it pop with a beam
Caught out your park, and we mopping you clean
Stuck in a nightmare just chasing my dream
This life feels fake, but it's also real mean
One, two, pick your damn head up
Three, four, get your damn bread up
Five, six, seven, eight, i'm fed up
Nine, ten, 11, 12, I wont let up
Talk with a lisp, but my 30 mil stutter
This is my shot, I might not get another
Wanna come up, wanna feed all my brothers
Wanna get rich, buy a crib for my mother
If you running up, i'll slice you like butter
Turned to a ghost, now you gone hover
I'm going ghost, 'cause I don't love her
Exhale the smoke right from the bubbler
I see dead people all around me in my room at night
I ain't seen a sober night in way too long, i'm wasting time
Reach right in my pocket and just tell me what you come to find
I took the wrong pill, it left in me in a daze, i'm hypnotized
Never had no friends, wonder why
And I can't pretend i'm not high
But it's fine
I'm alright
'Cause this ain't nothing new it's just my life
Walk with a glock, and it pop with a beam
Caught out your park, and we mopping you clean
Stuck in a nightmare just chasing my dream
This life feels fake, but it's also real mean
One, two, pick your damn head up
Three, four, get your damn bread up
Five, six, seven, eight, i'm fed up
Nine, ten, 11, 12, I wont let up
Walk with a glock, and it pop with a beam
Caught out your park, and we mopping you clean
Stuck in a nightmare just chasing my dream
This life feels fake, but it's also real mean
One, two, pick your damn head up
Three, four, get your damn bread up
Five, six, seven, eight, i'm fed up
Nine, ten, 11, 12, I wont let up
YB biatch
Caught out your park, and we mopping you clean
Stuck in a nightmare just chasing my dream
This life feels fake, but it's also real mean
One, two, pick your damn head up
Three, four, get your damn bread up
Five, six, seven, eight, i'm fed up
Nine, ten, 11, 12, I wont let up
Walk with a glock, and it pop with a beam
Caught out your park, and we mopping you clean
Stuck in a nightmare just chasing my dream
This life feels fake, but it's also real mean
One, two, pick your damn head up
Three, four, get your damn bread up
Five, six, seven, eight, i'm fed up
Nine, ten, 11, 12, I wont let up
Talk with a lisp, but my 30 mil stutter
This is my shot, I might not get another
Wanna come up, wanna feed all my brothers
Wanna get rich, buy a crib for my mother
If you running up, i'll slice you like butter
Turned to a ghost, now you gone hover
I'm going ghost, 'cause I don't love her
Exhale the smoke right from the bubbler
I see dead people all around me in my room at night
I ain't seen a sober night in way too long, i'm wasting time
Reach right in my pocket and just tell me what you come to find
I took the wrong pill, it left in me in a daze, i'm hypnotized
Never had no friends, wonder why
And I can't pretend i'm not high
But it's fine
I'm alright
'Cause this ain't nothing new it's just my life
Walk with a glock, and it pop with a beam
Caught out your park, and we mopping you clean
Stuck in a nightmare just chasing my dream
This life feels fake, but it's also real mean
One, two, pick your damn head up
Three, four, get your damn bread up
Five, six, seven, eight, i'm fed up
Nine, ten, 11, 12, I wont let up
Walk with a glock, and it pop with a beam
Caught out your park, and we mopping you clean
Stuck in a nightmare just chasing my dream
This life feels fake, but it's also real mean
One, two, pick your damn head up
Three, four, get your damn bread up
Five, six, seven, eight, i'm fed up
Nine, ten, 11, 12, I wont let up
YB biatch
Credits
Writer(s): Cole Harmsen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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