4am In Miami (Intro)

Lyrics

[Intro] (Ayy, Don, this beat dumb) [Verse: JB Bin Laden & CEO Trayle] Bring the mic out the booth, bitch, I'm with the brew Send your boo get some food 'cause she with me too I'ma bust, then I'm up, what you finna do? Put the Tuss in my cup, then I stick and move Ayy, don't ask what's in my cup, bitch, I'm sippin' juice Perky pop, I just went up, R.I.P. to Juice I ain't Bishop, but it's tucked, bitch, I got the juice So you with them or you with us? Nigga, pick and choose You niggas new age punks, bitch, I been a fool They was in class, I had bags all in the school I don't cap in my rap, all that shit's the truth You niggas cap in the hat, call you Dr. Seuss I don't drink, but I can call Yak, he be gettin' loose Wintertime, I'm back up in the 'Raq, glizzy in the Goose Ayy, and you know the switchy in the backpack, I might let it loose Backdoor, he ain't get that back, gave that shit to you Fuck it, give that bitch to me, I'ma hit the three They want that old Bizzle, that 400 East Ayy, know C4 with you, nine hundred degrees And we'll go toe-to-toe with you, that's what it gotta be If I go to war with you, it's either you or me I can't let you drive me 'round, you ain't Pluto, Boogie, Snail, or Z I ain't even wanna rap, but Trayle yelled at me If you mad, then we can fight, but you my brother, ain't no failin' me Makin' millions off of music, I thought 'bout Moms like what that spell for me? It's C4 and Bin Laden, they drop bombs is what you tellin' me That backend was too big for them to send, so I made them mail to me Them niggas bitches, I ain't with it, I ain't buyin' what you sellin' me And all my niggas stand on business You niggas don't, that shit embarassing Bitch, I ran it up, I ain't inherit it Ten addy behind general, you just [?] That shit from overseas, [?], not American Ayy, bitch, you see these B's, point me to whoever better than