Insomnia lyrics

[Chorus]
I just spilled the lean right on my Prada bag
And I can not sleep because I’m thinking bout these racks
And that’s not to mention all the good times that we had
If you f*cking wit a bro then we pop you like a tag
And I don’t wanna text her
Smoking so much gas till my mother f*cking chest hurt
I don’t really know how to let a b*tch go
Imma pull up with a scope hit a stain on your bro
Shout out to the plug yeah I got it for the low

[Verse: Space]
I get to stitching like lilo
Looking through a sniper like a peephole
You tryna flex but you still want a feat though
And I feel like Shaq with the free throw
I’m finna pop me a perc or a bean uh-uh-uh
Hit from the back uh-uh-uh
I pull up on bro and it turn out he capping
If it’s not on my waist I keep it in my jacket

[Verse 2: Space]
She so bad why she f*ck with me
Now a days feel like she don’t like my company
I always keep it a buck with me
It’s cause I’m stuck with me
[Chorus]
I just spilled the lean right on my Prada bag
And I can not sleep because I’m thinking bout these racks
And that’s not to mention all the good times that we had
If you f*cking wit a bro then we pop you like a tag
And I don’t wanna text her
Smoking so much gas till my mother f*cking chest hurt
I don’t really know how to let a b*tch go
Imma pull up with a scope hit a stain on your bro
Shout out to the plug yeah I got it for the low

[Verse: Sholoh]
n*gga f*ck around, and try me, get exposed
When I'm smoking on the pack, it be making you float
Hit that b*tch from the back make her feel it in her toes
I don't f*cking chitter chat, and even know you bro
I don't even f*ck with her, just my next b*tch
Keep that blade right on my right if she get hectic
You broke as hell why you keep on flexing
All you n*ggas tatter tells that's why i ain't 'cressin

[Verse 2: Sholoh]
b*tch I'm in the sh*t and finessing
b*tch i made you, ouu you pressing
Running to this bag but i got the Smith and Wesson
b*tch I'm gon' be rich all this money was so destined
[Chorus]
I just spilled the lean right on my Prada bag
And I can not sleep because I’m thinking bout these racks
And that’s not to mention all the good times that we had
If you f*cking wit a bro then we pop you like a tag
And I don’t wanna text her
Smoking so much gas till my mother f*cking chest hurt
I don’t really know how to let a b*tch go
Imma pull up with a scope hit a stain on your bro
Shout out to the plug yeah I got it for the low