6AM Freestyle

Lyrics
[Intro] Psh (Brutal Money) Ayy, psh Ayy, oh, oh (That nigga B on the beat) Ayy [Verse 1] Dirty cup, dirty clip, but the whip clean (Whip clean) And the bitch leave, you ain't what I never seen (Seen) I'm probably what that ho want, but what the bitch need (What she need) I'm a breath of fresh air, let the bitch breathe Rick Owens fat laces, I can't even tie 'em up Four-by-four G-Wagon, drive it like a Tonka truck Ice cold wrist froze, jumpin' out of sleeves (Yeah) In and out of conscious (Yeah), in and out of sleep Chrome Heart with twenty thousand bulgin' out my jeans Finna skip to Maxfield, eyes on Chinese Ching-a-ling, want a bag, bada boom, bada bing (Yeah) It's a Tris in the pop, I can't pour up with no green [Bridge] Bitches— (Yeah) Get the fuck out (Get the fuck out) Mm, mm, ayy, ayy 6 in the mornin' (Get the fuck out) Ah, ah, mm, mm (I swear to God) [Verse 2] Ayy (Ayy), skippin' out the bitch house, kinda out of pocket (Yeah) Ain't no question that I got it, but it's 'bout who first to pop it (Yeah, uh) I've been fuckin' up the city, sellin' pounds and pourin' Wocky (Wock') Fifty thousand was the profit, all twenties, it was sloppy (Broke) We the ones that put it on and make them other niggas copy I should run off on the plug because he got my nigga coppin' Got the Oxy from Miami, call them blues, we call them dolphins One thing I never seen is a dead man talkin' (Yeah, is a dead—) Bitches— (Walkin', ayy) Shut the fuck up (Shut the fuck up) She don't try to fall in love, I'm tryna fuck somethin' Before he walk off in the club, let me tuck somethin' (Let me tuck somethin') And if I whip this bitch out, I'ma pluck somethin' (Bah) I got road rage, Johnny Cage, black belt, drop kick (Drop kick) Heard he was dissin' on the 'Gram, that's why they clapped him (That's why they clapped him) Thirty thousand large in my pants, I'm finna cop kit (I'm finna what?) What the fuck I'm talkin' 'bout? I already got kit (Come on, man) Gamblin' on the next opp to die, this a live pic (Yeah, this a live pic) He ain't gon' make it to— ha, nigga, watch this Low reward, high risk, light skin, 5'6" Pretty brown with some ass, I got tight shit (I got tight shit) Welcome to the underworld, where we run night shift If you ain't tryna cop nothin', why you asking prices? (Shh) I just know the kid came low from my Pieces Know niggas doin' petty time and know some real lifers Strikers, space ships, invest in dirty rifles These hunger games'll make you go insane, it's about survival [Outro] 6 in the mornin', get the fuck out Shut the fuck up 'cause this a drug house If you ain't tryna spend a— get the— uh Mm, mm, mm, mm Ayy, it's 6 in the mornin' (Mornin') Ah, ah, mm, mm, mm, yeah 6 in the mornin', get the fuck out Get the fuck out Oh, oh, ayy
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Credits
- Writers
- Lil Yee