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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Burna Bandz
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Burna Bandz
Songwriter
Zachary Butt
Composer
Maurice Orsino Polite Jr.
Composer
Lyrics
Six in the morning, oh God
Late night shit, you know
Z-Z-Zach808, Havoc
Shine my light on
Wipin' all the shade
My nigga's in the streets for real, you know, you know
I saw that shit, gang, gang (ah, yeah, oh, yeah)
I'm really in the streets
I play for keeps, nigga, you don't wanna play wit' me
You get caught up, better not tell the police what you seen
You know I'm Burna Bandz, she say I got you on repeat
And she like the way I'm icy, the way I'm so clean
She be on that gang shit, I got her throwin' threes
She don't fuck wit' lame niggas, she just drip Celine
I took that lil' bitch to the crib, I turned her to a freak
I got this XD on my hip and it ain't nothin' sweet
You get hit the wrong way and it's R.I.P.
Man, these niggas they ain't real, I call it how I see
Charge my losses to the streets 'cause there ain't shit free
I was trappin' hard, I had no time to party on the weekend
24 hours in that bando, I ain't get no sleepin'
And free my cronem crushin' time, yeah they doin' seasons
I dirtied up my Mountain Dew, I'm runnin' on leanin'
Don't trust that bitch, she real pretty but her looks deceivin'
These niggas snakes, they undercover, you know how it go
I pop a perc and get big high, you know how it go
She fuck wit' me, but how I know that she gon' ride fo' sho'
I'm wit' some killers and I know that they gon' ride fo' sho'
We brought the tools and you know that they are not for show
Nigga better play your cards right, just like High or Low
And I ain't runnin' from no nigga, you ain't Five-O
That nigga fucked up like a typo
We run 'em down and get him shots just like it's lipo
And I keep Why S in the cut 'cause cronem psycho
And plug, send a brick shit, look albino
Play a nigga like Tidal
Still fuck my rivals
And made it this far
Started from a half a ball
Do a drill and we drift off
We don't leave no trace at all
You ain't get no cake at all
And nigga, that's your fault
I had to go get mine
Back against the wall
I had to go get mine
Back against the wall
You ain't ask if I was fine
I ain't get no call
But I was on my grind
Late night, run that shit up
This 45 gon' cut his breath just like a hiccup
This 45 gon' take his soul just like a stick up
And she ain't want me back then 'til I got my drip up
Got family countin' on me, can't afford to slip up
Don't walk up on me, row, that's how you get your shit bussed
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