2:52AM in Atlanta

Lyrics

[Intro] (Fuck the fire, we got grease) (It's a Wayne beat) Yeah, Ghetto Boyz shit [Verse] It's 3 in the morning, I just poured a three up The advance check from the label how I re-up They hit him close range with a switch from his knees up Don't let no rookie get the stick, he gon' freeze up When the pressure on I'm finna beat the bitch down off the dresser, though Man, this bitch strong as fuck, we start wrestlin', bro She told me if I lose her, I'd never get no neck no more I did a special move, her neck done broke Rub it on my gums, let me test it, though Two hunnid K, this ain't a chain, it's a necklace, bro Five hundred racks for my second show Hundred shots, got the titties out like a naked ho We got the Glock in the club, how the hell you know? They pat the whole gang down, but they let me through Your baby daddy sayin' he an opp, oh, I never knew I never knew that shit Just put a nigga six feet in the ground, he was 7'2 Oh, your daughter almost eight, my son seven too Eight thousand for a pint of red, somethin' you'll never do Blood'll squirt out your head too, so I ain't scared of you Told Wayne to bring the mic to me, put the chair to use Right now I'm rappin' in the mansion, I just left the booth I got a fucked-up schedule, I got a bunch of dog shit, I got leverage too I got a Cadillac, I got a Chevy too I got a white Patek, I got a presi' too I got a Benz truck, I got a Tesla too I got a Glock, but I ain't scared to put hands to use I got an old lady still get red, but won't sell the juice You just poured a one up, and I just spilled the deuce That's your real blood? He got killed for you He even sacrificed his baby mama, they killed her too Slapped her with the heat and chipped her tooth Forty-thousand-dollar outfit, it's a miracle Told bae, "Fuck a steak, I want cereal" And I stay with a lil' dog like Muriel If you ain't talkin' 'bout no drink, I ain't hearin' you He ain't got no lean belly, that's what beer do He had a lil' beard, they shot his mustache off I made this lil' shit today, you brought your stash out I just drunk an eight straight, I'm finna pass out Fuck around and OD, but I woke up, it was some glass around Okay, I feel better, it's some Act' now Ten thousand pills in here, this a 'Zac house Went in my book bag, whipped gaffle out I don't really shoot shit, this what I rap about One day I had no dope, broke a cracker down Put it in the sandwich bag, went to my cracker house Everybody gotta eat in here, this the smacker house I just put a trap down, tryna catch a mouse The B-O-P fucked up when they let me out I just caught this petty nigga tryna stretch an ounce Copped a hundred pints from a real plug, but the check bounced I just smoked some real weed, I want some neck now I drunk every purple lean, I want Tech now I'll get to talkin' shit all day, and I won't sit down Let me guess, you got every pair of Ricks now You got a quarter million dollars worth of cars at a little house Five thousand square feet, this the little house Nah, I ain't cheap, it's the big amount He shot so many motherfuckin' times, the trigger came off Auntie said I can keep the bottle, rip her name off