I've been stuck in this dream, in this dream, in this dream

I've been stuck in this nightmare, feeling like I might tear

My eyelids out right here there's something I can't fight here

I've been stuck in this dream, in this dream, in this dream

I've been stuck in this nightmare, feeling like I might tear

My eyelids out right here there's something I can't fight here

This my, black album I got 99 problems

And I've been tearing out my hair, like baldness would solve 'em

Tonight it feels so dark send my regards to tomorrow

Cause I don't know if I'mma see him every nights a coliseum

Stuck in this requiem all my deepest fears I feed em

They started out as seeds now they starting to grow leaves

And soon they will be trees and nest these birds and bees

They committing burglaries my goals were murdered first degree

First I ain't believe it, but since I've seen it

Every single thing I see between it seems so scenic

And I can't free it, I can't free it

My mind is in a prison I've been living with this demon

Sharing cells in hell and I'm feinin

For the feeling of comfort now I need it

In my life, used to have some fight

Inside of me but, since it left I ain't felt right

My stomach turns, my tongue it burns

My lungs they hurt, like they gone fuckin burst

Cause I've been breathless as I'm laying here restrained

A victim of this torture but it's all just in my brain

Am I cruel enough to do this to myself?

Tell the man in the mirror please don't judge me by my wealth

Cause I've been searching for, something more personal

But in this world I'm worthless, and that hurts to know

That hurts ya know, try not to curse it

These words ain't permanent, no time for cursive

Cause paper burns, and language changes

Someday noone will know, the pain contained in these pages

Hard to face it, feeling ageless

Tryna keep people away from me anxiety's contagious

Not too sure that society can take this

But I've been trapped behind this wall it takes like five of me to break it

I can't climb it neither, some people find a preacher

Some even find a teacher, me I ain't trying neither

I ain't crying either, I might be lying feet first

I might be high on reefer, that's cause sobriety hurts

Trying to find a T-Shirt, I'm feeling under dressed

In the front of the class, man I'm a fuckin mess

Breaking down, breaking up

Breaking bad lost my mind tryna take it back

Pt.2

(Demonic Voice):

I'm coming after you, after you

I'm coming after you, Mr. Rapper dude (x2)

This shit got you paranoid, paranoid (x3)

This shit got you paranoid tearing out ya hair boy

Cause the fake they afraid of the truth, afraid of the truth

Cause the fake they afraid of the truth, you ain't superman you just change in the booth

I got that kryptonite for ya, for ya (x3)

With a flow so hot I'mma boil ya, boy ya

Treat you like my son, and I ain't got one

That means you a nobody, hop on the track get ya flow bodied

You frosty the snowman, and I'm a heata

You just a typo, typo, time to delete ya

Time to delete ya uh (x4)

Verse:

Sick so sick I need a quarantine in this rap scene I regulate like Warren G

Fuckin these tracks this shit is porn to me, killing hip hop shit is bor'n to me

Shout out to the man performing these cause that's the same motha fucka that's supporting me

Tryna be who the younger me sworn to be I wouldn't buy your music if it came with warranties

Sick of corny beats from cereal artists, who probably got their microphones from Cheerio boxes

Me and my team we some serious bosses y'all thinner than the plastic bags I keep all my pot in

First show in Escanaba I was eating Neurottin every song I played then shit I probably forgotten

But can you blame me ten mixtapes later lemme put a rubber glove on and fist these haters

Lemme pause, that's a metaphor, tryna diss better work on your respirator'

Cause I got some grimy shit in my repertoire so lemme hear some new shit you ain't said before

Y'all broken pianos broke projectors man we heard it all, seen it all come better planned

Lanky motha fucka pulling treys like Kev Durant, you just old an washed up, like Letterman's

Even veterans know I'm the new truth, that's why I always stay connected like Bluetooth

Streets is hard check the comments on YouTube 100 million gangsters with no better shit to do