Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song How Can U Sleep, artist - BrainDate of issue: 13.09.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
How Can U Sleep |
| AKA homicide |
| Yes, homicide |
| OG’s knew I had it poppin' |
| IG lookin' Photoshopish (it's lit, it’s real) |
| They just can’t take charge so they floppin' |
| New shit looking like it’s knocking |
| Rap game, not a game, well I ain’t broke so it’s cast off |
| Really I been keepin' shit a hunnid like the Cubbie tryin' to close it with a |
| fast ball |
| I don’t even do this shit for money but they buying it in droves like it’s |
| half-off |
| If Dicky gotta show out there |
| You know he 'bout to show out there |
| Rol on my arm |
| Russ on a farm |
| Piston, new guard |
| They put the boy on the Jumbotron |
| Just to pump up the crowd |
| At my ten year reunion, like look at me now |
| Having good sex on the reg |
| New Tempur-Pedic, my bed |
| All of my lawyers are black |
| Shit is ironic as hell |
| But I guess that what happens when Jews started rappin' |
| Used to have turtles, no wonder I’m snappin' |
| Used to commercial, right, used to play Madden |
| No wonder they let me do both for a bag |
| I was not in a frat, I had never conformed |
| In a 2000 cab I had never performed |
| I ain’t takin' no L’s |
| Fuck what you sell |
| I barely pay for my drinks, doin' well |
| I tell 'em there is no need for the glitz |
| I don’t need sparklers, they know that I’m lit |
| I’m on top of the world, fuck all these girls |
| I prefer momma to play with my curls |
| I can tell all of you rappers ain’t thorough |
| Head hit the pillow and boom it’s tomorrow |
| But how can you sleep? |
| (ew, ew) |
| How can you sleep? |
| (ew) |
| How can you sleep? |
| (gross, how?) |
| How can you sleep? |
| (how? ew) |
| How can you sleep? |
| (how? gross) |
| How can you sleep? |
| (how? ew) |
| How can you sleep? |
| (how? ew) |
| You still asleep |
| How many bitch ass rappers I gotta slap 'till they put on Worldstar? |
| Even though Q passed away |
| Pull a '38 out of my pocket and then cock it |
| Leave a nigga on an island like he in Castaway |
| Cock strong since them old Doc songs (thug life) |
| Like an old Pac song, outta my mind |
| The lights on, but I’m not home |
| Something is wrong with me |
| I done brought six strippers from Vegas home with me |
| Trees bought game to getting blown with me |
| FaceTime with Karrueche, they on the phone with me |
| Tell K good night, I’m hype, I might ignite |
| Plastic cups, Promethazine and Sprite |
| Man I don’t really know who’s song this is |
| Who’s weed I’m stealing and who’s bong this is |
| And I don’t really give a fuck 'cause I keep the ammo tucked and you can keep |
| on swinging from my nuts |
| But don’t say I can’t rap like I’m not a Rap God |
| Like I won’t break your fucking favorite rapper’s rap jaw |
| I don’t give a shit |
| Big or tall, short or small |
| I’ll cut your dick off and sit it on Trump’s wall |
| Then spraypaint «Fuck the President"it's evident |
| Hip Hop dead, them new niggas irrelevant |
| Different color braids, you niggas stuck in the maze |
| Ain’t grew up by a beach, to say you ridin' a wave |
| Man, I’m so glad that Guwop out |
| And rap fans still give a fuck what 2Pac 'bout |
| I’m right here, I don’t give a fuck who hop out |
| Don’t let Mark Zuckerberg get you knocked out |
| And don’t try me over IG |
| Don’t try to be subliminal and get it by me |
| I’m a criminal, I’ll leave you hooked to a IV |
| Next to Jimmy Iovine over hood shit, but- |
| We could start with rap shit |
| I ain’t never lost at that shit |
| Let me clear it up, Proactive |
| I could walk up in this motherfucker looking everybody dead up in the eye, |
| like we can rap for that shit |
| You’ll get embarrased |
| I’ll be in Paris, don’t compare us |
| Flow the rarest |
| Got bitches in the bed room, over sharing |
| Got an Aussie and a Brit like I’m going with Sharon |
| So apparent, Heir apparent |
| But I don’t want it next |
| Someone tell Complex it ain’t complex |
| And what you lookin' at is now like a Timex |
| I am checked the on now off the clock like compound |
| I’m really adamant, you’re really adequate |
| I’m really passionate, I’m Billy Madison |
| I’m the motherfucking graduate |
| Twenty ten with a pen, I didn’t plan this shit |
| My plan legit, I manuscript it |
| It was living by the candle stick |
| But for the plaques I had to mantle it |
| All my friends thought Dicky was a joke |
| Now they tryin' to see a show |
| Now they out of breath, tryna speak good |
| I remember everyone that didn’t think I could |
| Every publicist who thought that I was mocking hood |
| Look what what you were tryin' to stopping jerk |
| Look who tryin' to rap now |
| I don’t even fuck with you |
| If what’s done is done, how come I ain’t done with you? |
| And if it’s fucking done, come on how dumb is you? |
| Let me get another tissue |
| I’ll be crying 'till the fucking bank pull that card again |
| From Charlamagne to Busta, Game, to Puff, to Sway, Questlove, T-Pain, |
| from Snoop to Chainz, it’s all the same |
| Ain’t no debate, they know who fake, they know who great |
| You don’t know your place |
| Cameras around me, they don’t know your place |
| Shooters around me 'cause I entertain |
| I got 'em shooting they movie |
| I could meet a bitch on a Tuesday |
| Girls come to me |
| Don’t got jewelry |
| Don’t feel bad when I bust in my jacuzzi |
| Don’t eat ass but it still be lookin' juicy |
| Front page, coming at you like a news’ie |
| Hoes didn’t choose me, now I’m choosing |
| Now I got a Jap on knees like sushi |
| Lil' dick got vert, no Uzi |
| I might just pop that coochie, bruh |
| OG’s knew I had it poppin' |
| How can you sleep? |
| Ew |
| How can you sleep? |