Lyrics Nikes - Reece Geller

Troubling sleeping
I hate dreaming

Waking up with all demons
Got to see it to believe it

And I'm believing in myself
Back to the trap
Smokin piff
Like I got cataracts

Waking up to chase deposits
Sprinting towards the fucking bag

It ain't a game
Until everybody wants to play

It ain't a team
If everybody ain't counting cake

Finger folding benjis
Riding dirty with the purple
Bout to get it on
I Ain't talking no Marvin Gaye

Shot clock when I fadeaway
They love me when I save the day
Double cups
Filled with razor blades

Smoking up on these papers planes
I'm higher than apollo
Painting pictures
Like Picasso

Bout to do the fucking dash
Like Roscoe
No chicken and waffles

Yea ain't got no Geller in your serato
That's a fucking problem
Got more girls buying my songs
Than avocados

No drake this the motto
Knock one down
Watch the rest follow

The coldest winter
Off the Perkys
Flights to Milan

Ain't flying commercial jets
The beginning of the end
I ain't never needed friends
Or a bitch

Getting thru the night alone
Open the notes
And write some songs
No singalong

Better bring the weed along
Bullfighter my jet and calling match
Calling set

That was all off the top
And I'm still of the top
And yo bitch counting shots
I might eat out her box