Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dreams Nightmares, artist - Lil Wayne.
Date of issue: 01.02.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Dreams Nightmares |
That noise in the background, that’s my skateboard |
That nigga Mack crazy |
Yeah, uh |
I put my shooters on they feet |
I just give 'em your address, then go to sleep |
The money turned my niggas into monsters |
The white done turned my niggas into Nazis, Lord |
The money turned my face into a stocking |
Don’t make me turn your baby to a hostage, boy |
Don’t make me turn the kid to a foster |
My woman turn my dick into a Mazda, Lord |
Body parts in the duffel |
The bullets turn your body to a puzzle |
The money turn my bitch into a monster |
She know how to get a check and turn a zero to a comma, Lord |
The money turn my niggas into killas |
The sugar turnt the cocaine to vanilla |
The money turnt the bitches into hoes |
The money turned my niggas into foes, Lord |
I put my shooters on they feet |
Give 'em your address, then I go out to eat |
Had that snowman in the hood like Jody Breeze |
She from the hood but look like she from overseas |
I said, «Girl you know I love you and I care for ya |
I got some new shoes and a bag of hair for ya» |
She say, «Fuck these other niggas, they ain’t half of ya |
Just keep laughing to the bank, it’s hilarious» |
I got a stay-at-home gun and a travel gun |
Boy, we could sell white, in Africa |
It’s like, I can’t explain, y’all asked me to spit |
And now I’m drooling on my chain |
«What happened to Wayne?» |
I’m like, hold up, wait a second, y’all thought I was second? |
Hating on a champ, throwing salt and not confetti |
We pull up and we shoot, then we park the car and edit |
Watch me pull up with no roof |
Tthat’s cause I walk the dog and pet it |
I’m like, hold up, wait a minute, y’all thought I was finished? |
Shoot you in your head, then just walk off like I didn’t |
Let my money talk so much, put my jawbone outta business |
Doing numbers in this bitch, I’m like a smart phone with the digits |
Bitch! |
Riding 'round with the volume down |
With the windows up and the choppers down |
Soon as we get to your block |
It’s the motherfuckin' other way around |
My bitch say I’m too wild |
She don’t even know why she stay around |
I get home and I dick her down |
Now she talking 'bout exchanging vows |
If these bullets was paintballs |
I could fuck around and I could paint a house |
You could tell I’m pimpin' |
Tthe way I hit the blunt with my pinkie out |
I bring wine to Amy house |
We smoke it out and we drank it out |
And talk about these pussy niggas |
Tthat ain’t about what Wayne about |
I’m hangin out a Mulsanne without a brain, it’s out of its mind |
I pull over, I push a button, it change like Optimus Prime |
Speaking of change, it’s a shame how these lames droppin' them dimes |
We aim at your grape, knock it off, now you just vines |
Blood Gang, red rain on these niggas, hot if you dry |
My gang top of the line, hollerin' out «Squad, take it outside» |
I’m a taxpayer, |
I’m a axe player, gettin' in through the back well |
Red devil to the blue collared, un-enveloped blackmail |
Fed up with the fed shit and Fed-Ex lost my package |
My white girls say «Yeah, nigga!» |
My white homies act blackish |
Ain’t tall enough for the NBA, I ain’t big enough for the NFL |
Should’ve been in N.W.A., fuck the police, Five-0 and 12 |
One time for your mind, bitch, never say «Nevermind,» bitch |
You a penny short of a dime, bitch, no nonsense |
Had a nine since I was nine, bitch |
Yeah, born to murder |
Bank account on fat, bustin' out the girdle |
Tell 'em boys ain’t nothin' sweet, it’s sauerkraut, ya heard me? |
They find ya body in New Orleans on Mardi Gras on Bourbon |
Like, oh, Lord, Humphrey Bogart |
It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s a crowbar |
For the most part, I’m the southern coast guard |
AK-47 spittin' flame like a blow torch |
Sorry 4 The Wait, woo |