เนื้อเพลง Insomniak - Mac Miller

[Intro: Sample]
Think for yourself and you'll find out that a lot of those so-called authorities are bullsh*t

[Verse 1: Mac Miller]
I'm the mothaf*ckin' 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*ckas never loved us
Comin' for your money, mothaf*cka, don't trust us
You ain't sh*t
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*tch
Done doin' promo
And it's still mothaf*ckin' Most Dope
Made a couple million off a brand, mothaf*cka
We ain't even got a logo
B*tch, you better have my money
(I stay feelin' myself)
I don't see anybody but me
(Man I'm killin' myself)
And this sh*t too real
See a mothaf*cka 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*ckin' insomniac
(Don't try to sneak around me)
I'm an insomniac, a mothaf*ckin' insomniac
(So don't try, don't try to sneak around me)
I'm an insomniac, a mothaf*ckin' insomniac
I'm an insomniac, a mothaf*ckin' 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*ckas 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*ckas start lookin'
But they're never gonna see where I be
She only speak French
Said "B*tch look, don't try and speak around me"
I don't sleep at all
If you with that bullsh*t, I don't wanna be involved, sh*t
I could make a million puttin' my lyrics on a tee
Fearless, Jet Li, fourth quarter, Gretzky
Take your b*tch, Joe Pesci, don't test me
Don't flex if you don't got sh*t on me
And you ain't got sh*t 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*cked 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*gga
F*ck who don't like, b*tch come see me
F*ck who don't like, hitta, hitta, hitta
Gettin' money so complicated
I'm the sh*t, 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*gga
Krispy Kreme, then it's chicken wings
Introduce you to different things
Jet skis and the best weed
Think it's fake? B*tch 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*gga
Bought the estate from a boxin' n*gga
Paranoid, I'm walkin' 'round
I'm b*tt naked with my chopper, n*gga
Hahahahaha
I'm b*tt naked with my chopper, n*gga

[Hook: Mac Miller]