Dave Hill, B. Lewie, & FatRay100 - 2AM Last Week

Ayy, me and Lew kickin' shit, nigga, right on
Just made it out the city, tryna make it to the Clio
You don't know the feelin' when I make it out Ohio
Hammy in the kitchen with the right eye on
Real professional, cookin' dope with a tie on
Brody riding sixes, tryna dodge the potholes
But still a hit one, fucked around and bent one
New Forgiato rim, you gotta get one
You should see the fiend's face when that pit come
Auntie broke and she freaky, tryna lick sum'n
Get the fuck on auntie before I stick sum'n
Since a youngin', I knew I was about to turn up
We the ones that hit that small town and made it burn up
Unk the ice cream man, he tryna churn somethin'
Pull a nigga hoe card, like, what, I thought I heard somethin
They talkin', but they ain't makin' shit shake
I say, the nerve of you
See that Monte Carlo bend the block, they think the bird's comin
Ringin' off the corner till I'm up, is this the turnbuckle
Crash out, like they ain't hit the blinker when they turned on me
Disloyalty mean capital punishment
Hit my lil' two-step, then it's back to the hustlin
Put a lil' tax on it, get it back like the government
All my faith in legal tender, only backed by the government
In the hood by the motor, tryna grease my hand
Sent a text, but never saved it, baby, we ain't locked in
Even if you played the Buffy's, you can't see in my lens
On Palm Beach, in Palm Angels, with a B in my hands
What's up
Bitch, think she know it all, it's annoying me
Told the bouncer, I'm a Boss, bro, let go of me
Feel like Tyrese, bitch, what more do you want from me
Being broke, dead, roll that shit up in the Grabba leaf
Drive a cop car, go apply to the academy
Greet me on your knees, baby, treat me like your majesty
Body work of art, I should put you in a gallery
Baby daddy should've put you up
He ain't know no better, you don't know no better
Head good, pussy good, guess we go together
Pretty face, first place, need a gold medal
Got a crib big as a farm, but I'm a city boy
I'm too deep up in my duffle, feel like Titty Boy
Closet Avenue of fashion, it's like Livernois
Money, power, or respect, man, what you living for
They ain't have that shit online, I had to hit the store
I ain't trippin' on lil' mama, I got plenty more
Talk some money, we can kick it more
Talk some money, we can kick it

Written by:
Brandon Lewis, DaRae Adams, David Hill-Gray

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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