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Yo Gotti - Off Da Top (3am) Lyrics

A Boogie Wit da Hoodie - Thug Love Lyrics Ludacris - Butter.Atl Lyrics Dej Loaf - Technical Foul Lyrics Famous Dex - Hoes Mad Lyrics Cardi B - Real Niggas Lyrics Kehlani - Intro Lyrics Post Malone - I Cannot Be (A Sadder Song) Lyrics Gucci Mane - Dboy Style Lyrics
It's 3am West Coast time nigga
We at Fat Burger
Hood nigga rich shit gourmet burgers, nigga
Know what I'm talking about? Ay

She pussy popping pocket watching
They call her a thot
Bad credit cash it out
Fresh up off the lot
No back and forth yipping yapping
Niggas getting shot
10 million, 20 acres
That's the new spot
Flooded out my crib and
Told my jeweller you the illest
Reneg on my contract
Told my label I don't feel it
Fell out with my partner
He mixed friendship with our business
Broke up with my bitch
'Cuz she was too much in her feelings
I may fuck her friend
Fuck it I may fuck her friend
Between me and you
I always wanted to fuck her friend
If I kill a hater
Lord you gotta forgive my sins
That's one fuck nigga you ain't gotta worry about again
I'm forever thuggin' I ain't never changed
In plain colors but forever banging
Blowing money but I'm maintaining
Blowing money but I'm maintaining
I got a gambling problem but money can't really solve it
Trying to help all the real niggas
Hate to see a nigga starving
Hate to see nigga robbing they own people shit, disloyal
Bitch trying to give me the pussy for a Birkin bag
I can't afford you
I grew listening to 2pac and that Biggie
Jay-z and that Nas
No gimmick rappers niggas these rappers had bars
Back when record labels turned real niggas into stars, and
Sending niggas to Mars, and
Nowadays the game done got hard
You get shot that make you hot
But where I'm from that make you start
Before I be a pussy I'd rather rapper had the balls
I throw me some guns
Get myself a charge
Never see me do that
I came too far to look back
I did too much to get here
20 mil in one year
100 grand in one night
50k in one flight
I've been trapping my whole life
Ain't no secret I be thuggin'
Ain't no secret I be hustlin'
Picking loyalty over money
Money orders to my homies
Groupie bitches be all on me
Leave your phones at the door
You won't put me on no blog
Once I fuck you gotta go
3am ain't nothing open but IHOP
And a bitch legs, and my trap spot
I said 3am I'm trapping at the IHOP
And I'm connected to the plug like a hotspot
I'm a grower we don't do droughts
Birds in the sky we call them iClouds
You know the birds fly down south
I took a bitch to eat at Mr. Chow's
I met the plug at Benihanah
On hibachi grills eating rice and talking numbers
I don't do no middle men
And I don't trust no runners
I'ma pay on time and I won't never take you under
I'm an OG dope boy
I ain't nothing like these youngins
I don't take the dope I'm selling
I won't ever do no telling
Overnight my pack, yeah, we call that FedEx
I ship in the 18 wheeler and I ain't talking UPS
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Published By: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written By: Mario Mims, Joshua Luellen