Birdman - 5 In The Morning lyrics | LyricsFreak
Correct  |  Mail  |  Print  |  Vote

5 In The Morning Lyrics

Birdman – 5 In The Morning Lyrics

[Intro:]
Yea
This 5 in the morning
Blowin up the pond
You sleepin
I’m atin, uh
Chyea, ouchea getting it
Dream away young nigga
Lost in this life water
Might put this work in
Deep blue sea

[Verse:]
No matter what I try to do, I can’t do right
The other day I jacked a hot pickle and fruit stripes
Then me and my niggas stole 2 bikes
Then we went on like 2 flights, no plane
I’m talking ‘bout the night hustle
Me, myself I flex my muscle
I ain’t really tryina tussle
See that thing will prolly bust you, brat!
And I know the cops tryina bug you
I hope your shit ain’t tapped nigga
And I hope you ain’t wearing a wire
Pour some water on him, electrify him, set him on fire
If a nigga playing with me and my people
See we don’t play tho
Niggas think that this just a game
It ain’t no play tho, but I mold you, scold you
Fold you like clothes dust
Straight out of the drier, then puff some trees to get higher
Shit, niggas know they Carey like Mariah
Kids that ain’t theirs on they taxes
Shit, y’all niggas acting like actress
Y’all don’t know Beatrice, that’s my uncle from the city nigga
B32 too nigga
You understand? Do your history, your research
Fuck around and they gonn prolly have to call a reaper
Your face on the t shirt, now you restin in peace boy
Playing around with us, this shit could get hot like grease boy
Fly over the greece boy, money get increase boy
Get it straight like the criss boy
Pullin up in like retards
Get under your skin like a keylord
The only alphabets we cool with is the d boys, and deep boys
You ain’t the man nigga, you’s a decoy
Yous’ a lookout, you eating off of them
When the birds come in, you never ever see em, mula
You ain’t the type that’s tryina get the bands up bm
Niggas that be langing on my nerves like my bm
Hang em up in the lame nigga museum
We quick to zim, put em to sleep
If they playin round with me and my niggas
Yeah we quick to creep
Yeah we come through 30 deep
And 30 cars, prolly got like 30 broads
Knock off 30 boys, tryina play around with me and my, me and my, me and my
Me and my rich gang
You tryina play around with me and my, me and my, me and my
Me and my rich gang
Prove you’s a bitch maine, fucking with the young stunners
Nigga you fucking with the young stunners
Nigga you fuck around with the rich gang, we prove that you a bitch mane
And have your mammy picking out your funeral fit mane
Stop fuckin with it, before we spit a bit
Do you in, hit you up with the mac 10
You and your can, shouts out to mac 10
Nigga that’s my nigga, make a nigga do a backspin
If you play with Jack Dem
Me and my rich gang
You got me fucked up with my rich gang
Ain’t nothing for us to proove that you a bitch mane
Playing around your mom will be picking your funeral fit mane.

[Outro:]
Uptown rich nigga
Come from the slums with it
This nigga there, I see you nigga
We ouchea getting it
Mastermind this whole game plan
This money poppin
Off the floor
It’s yo room floor
Marble floors and chandeliers
Nig broke
20 on bitches, ya heard?
Leggo
Call game stupid
This game is stupid
Money game to the ceiling
Grind no end, it’s just life
Flashy lifestyle every day
Hundred in the right pocket,
Scrap under
Livin life
Bring the bottles
Share lyrics
×

5 In The Morning comments