Mac Miller - Insomniak lyrics

(feat. Rick Ross) [Intro: Sample] Think for yourself and you'll find out that a lot of those so-called authorities are bullsh** [Verse 1: Mac Miller] I'm the mothaf**in' greatest, y'all don't know that yet I don't need your money, you can hold that check At the crib in some Polo sweats I don't need a ho, that's what the hoes don't get I'm on my worst behavior Bad side piece with the perfect flavor Mothaf**as never loved us Comin' for your money, mothaf**a, don't trust us You ain't sh** Bought a brand new crib, yeah, I move that brick I don't want nothin' with your doo-doo clique Treat her like a dog, how I do that b**h Done doin' promo And it's still mothaf**in' Most Dope Made a couple million off a brand, mothaf**a We ain't even got a logo b**h, you better have my money (I stay feelin' myself) I don't see anybody but me (Man I'm k**in' myself) And this sh** too real See a mothaf**a like me gettin' money How does it feel? Already been, but I'm back for more Insomniac, I don't know what I got a mattress for Insomniac, I don't know what I got a mattress for Don't sleep! [Hook: Mac Miller] I'm an insomniac, a mothaf**in' insomniac (Don't try to sneak around me) I'm an insomniac, a mothaf**in' insomniac (So don't try, don't try to sneak around me) I'm an insomniac, a mothaf**in' insomniac I'm an insomniac, a mothaf**in' insomniac (Oh, hello Q) [Verse 2: Mac Miller] Yeah, yeah, said, said I'm a maniac, craziac, same thing I might need to cave the fact Chain reactions happen when I make a pact A psycho, God made me that Cause I fade to black and gets down like a plane attack You mothaf**as just made me lap Ha ha, God damnit, safety drill, do not panic Let me see how loud you scream (AHHH!) I'm off the map, mothaf**as start lookin' But they're never gonna see where I be She only speak French Said "b**h look, don't try and speak around me" I don't sleep at all If you with that bullsh**, I don't wanna be involved, sh** I could make a million puttin' my lyrics on a tee Fearless, Jet Li, fourth quarter, Gretzky Take your b**h, Joe Pesci, don't test me Don't flex if you don't got sh** on me And you ain't got sh** on me, come get it (Come get it, come, come get it, come) Drawer full of fresh whites Snow bag full of unleaded I don't get enough credit Don't sleep! [Interlude: Rick Ross] (M-M-M-M-M-M) They've done f**ed up, han? The biggest bezzle, han? The don, Ricky Farrakhan (M-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music) [Verse 3: Rick Ross] My weed burnin', my chain glitter He's self made, Mac Miller my real n***a f** who don't like, b**h come see me f** who don't like, hitta, hitta, hitta Gettin' money so complicated I'm the sh**, I'm constipated Yo baby momma, straight G Let me use the crib to mail all the weed California, Atlanta White girl in the black Phantom My top down, mid-December Ride with a big black fat n***a Krispy Kreme, then it's chicken wings Introduce you to different things Jet skis and the best weed Think it's fake? b**h test me I'm jetlagged, don't need a stylist Pants sag, Jimmy Fallon Blowin' green in the green room Def Jam like Baous really wildin' Yeah they hate but won't box a n***a Bought the estate from a boxin' n***a Paranoid, I'm walkin' 'round I'm bu*t naked with my chopper, n***a Hahahahaha I'm bu*t naked with my chopper, n***a [Hook: Mac Miller]