Текст песни FAM!LY DREAM! (feat. DOUBLR) - Greg the Great

Little bitch, I got no sympathy, you pussies can not match my energy
I'm doing this shit for my family, stacking that bread, they want to come after me
I just know she want to fuck on the low, it's icy outside, I might cop me a Rollie
Call up my bros, they kick out your door, if we got beef then you know that it's smoke, uh

You can get smoked like a chimney, these pussies imitate me like a mini me
Plays on my phone, so we taking them all, call up Zay, he just might get you spun like a CD
And she want to see me, I told her, I'm done, it's nothing to me so just leave me alone
And these pussies constantly calling my phone, VVS water, just look at the stones
Hear the sound, they gotta run, cause when two two three blowing, it ain't gone be fun
The music I make, I be doing for fun, but when it get real, you know I'm the one
Fly in a rocket, we take off the set, hop in the leer, no Ubers just jets
He want the smoke, so we come for him next, don't go outside unless you got a vest
I was fucking on your bitch, she just want to give me neck
I hit the dash, and do the rest, and get the bread put in a check
If we check you then you next, if you snitch, there's no respect
Cause I'll be coming for your neck, I might just put your ass to rest
Ain't no violence in this bitch, I use my words and not my fist
I just pass to bro cause he a shooter, that's my assist
DOUBLR aim at your head, and if he rip, it ain't gone miss
It's a dream, I swear my hitters, we gone make it out the sticks

Little bitch, I got no sympathy, you pussies can not match my energy
I'm doing this shit for my family, stacking that bread, they want to come after me
I just know she want to fuck on the low, it's icy outside, I might cop me a Rollie
Call up my bros, they kick out your door, if we got beef then you know that it's smoke, uh

Stacking this bread, do this for my family, hoping my enemies aren't coming after me
I got some demons, I hope they ain't trapping me
Smoking this weed, it's got me off gravity, fucking with me, it might be a tragedy
Anger inside, I know that it's bad for me, seeking on drugs to give me some clarity
Cause I got some problems I need to be fixing, I got some digits I need to be getting
Me and Greg shitted on Michael and Pippen, we stacking up double when most of y'all spending
Rather wear Polo than Gucci and Prada, cause I'm from the gutter like Gucci and Flocka
Standing on business since I was a toddler, don't need to be gangsta to get you some guala
When handling business, I always speak proper, we don't keep nothing but hustlers on rosters
Stayed out of jail, was destined to prosper
I went through the worst, I did it alone, keep blowing me up while I'm up in my zone
Fell off, got it back, did it all on my own, so, little bitch, why would I ever have sympathy

Little bitch, I got no sympathy, you pussies can not match my energy
I'm doing this shit for my family, stacking that bread, they want to come after me
I just know she want to fuck on the low, it's icy outside, I might cop me a Rollie
Call up my bros, they kick out your door, if we got beef then you know that it's smoke, uh