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letra de nightmares - ransom

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[verse 1]
i had dreams of being a millionaire
rolling down these avenues and getting a million stares
i hope y’all feel me, yeah
i wake up in cold sweats like: “d-mn, i’m still in here!”
even though i feel no fear, i never can reveal my tears
my father told me i’d never make it
i celebrated when he died, n0body cried
hope he’s in h-ll with satan
i can’t control my thoughts, getting drunk and dozing off
can’t brush my shoulders off, partna’ i’m a soldier lost
sick as a general’s mind when he’s approaching war
yeah, i’m getting better with time, i’m tryna focus more
i got a veterans grind, i’m tryna open doors
public enemy like flav when he was smoking raw
seen the birth of my little baby queen
she seen the pain in my eyes and i think it made her scream
you got to wake up n-gga, this ain’t no crazy dream
never thought i’d be broke living off my lady’s cream
n-ggas telling me what i should and should not do
keep the advice to yourself homie, i’m not you
nightmares of being a fiend like at 45
they all despise i see it all in my daughters eyes
i slump down in my chair right before she cries
point at the needle and tell her: “that’s where my fortune lies”
i wake up and i scream: “still your boy is alive!”
i don’t got money to live but can’t afford to die

[hook]
is you dreaming or is you f-cking awake?
motherf-cker, is you schemin’ or getting f-cking cake?
let me know if you n-ggas leaving or you stuck in place
i’ve been having these nightmares about my f-cking faith

[verse 2]
if you’ve made the mistakes that i have made
then you wondering why you ain’t laying inside a grave
and every time you go to sleep you dream of brighter days
when you wake up it’s a nightmare
that’s inside a maze, still got a child to raise
no time to think about fashion and how you style your braids
got to put food on the table, you better find some ways
if i’m going out, i’m going out in the fire blaze
i ain’t gonna stop my mission until i’m finally paid
swear to god i take the pain
me and these n-ggas ain’t made the same
four or five shots i’ll make it rain
go and tell the cops, i’ll take the blame
got visions of women in linen giving me rhythm
but i’m just a snitch away from sitting in prison
reality bites harder than a piranha
i tell ya honor that i’m hoping to see tomorrow
hoping to see my father so i could tell him: “f-ck you!
i ain’t your son motherf-cker, i’ll never trust you”
i wake up in cold sweats and old sweats
i’m so stressed, think i’m dying a slow death

[hook]

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