| Ohhhhohhhohhhohhhh ladadadadada
|
| Ohhhhohhhohhhohhhh ladadadadada
|
| Ohhhhohhhohhhohhhh ladadadadada
|
| Ohhhhohhhohhhohhhh
|
| See it went from talking shit loud
|
| To graduating to whispers
|
| Still chilling painting pictures with the hipsters
|
| And since I produced the record
|
| Please hold while I insert
|
| A bassline dirtier than kissing on your sister (ew)
|
| Still clearing 30 racks, cigarrettes, and leather jackets
|
| Pimp coats, and feathered hats
|
| Lose the phone, never that
|
| My mother’s cooking sauce
|
| I’m more Italian than Sinatra’s kids
|
| Fashion is a chore to me
|
| I’m partying in moccasins
|
| Rocking with the scholars
|
| Then taking shots up with the college kids
|
| Please don’t try and copy me
|
| You’re cheating while I’m proctoring
|
| Positively optimistic
|
| Hopping on the opposite
|
| Of every single thing they ever told me to do
|
| So put the hate down and watch me spazz out
|
| To sounds Jon Lennon would be proud of
|
| Put the hate down and watch me spazz out
|
| To sounds Jon Lennon would be proud-
|
| Ohhh as I take off on an airplane
|
| I realize the dream that I’m chasing is true
|
| Yeah I’m afraid of heights
|
| But I’m not afraid to fly
|
| Let me hear the dreamers yo
|
| Ohhhhohhhohhhohhhh ladadadadada
|
| Yeah, for a proper introduction
|
| This is keys without the locksmith
|
| A new year, I’m tired of rapping on that nonchalant tip
|
| You scholars think you can roast my associate with hot shit
|
| You’re hopeless, cause this bachelor is a master when a doc spits
|
| Work all day and laid back collecting bills at night
|
| We’re fly enough to make the sell see us, still we’re fearing heights
|
| Waiting to blow, getting impatient, I’ve been chasing
|
| Mister myers with a knife
|
| Flipping the script because I’m killing mic’s
|
| My entourage is a bunch of guys
|
| Who walk around mauling all the moms in every mall
|
| With that sharpened claws
|
| Not talking santa or a certain type of grammar
|
| I’m a standout
|
| Not handing handouts to all your open paws
|
| So put the hate down watch me spazz out
|
| To sounds Kurtis Blow would be proud of
|
| Put the hate down and watch me spazz out
|
| Yo sounds Kurtis Blow would be proud-
|
| Never wake up from your dreams (your dreams) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song For The Dreamers , by - Jon Bellion. Song from the album Translations Through Speakers, in the genre Поп