Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song At Night, artist - AZ. Date of issue: 31.12.2000
Song language: English
At Night |
| I don’t give a hell what you spit |
| Who you are, where you from |
| This is, this is projects |
| I don’t give a hell what you spit |
| Who you are, where you from |
| And who the hell you be gettin' |
| Urban wolves, dream team baby |
| The Sosa of the game has returned |
| Brooklyn, black Sopranos, let’s play |
| Nice and smooth, white Nikes, icey jewels |
| So cool, but the slightest shit ignite my fuels |
| Love it low, stay in mine, attach semi |
| Cuz its hard to enter rap just passin' by |
| XK8, it’s all good, the next they hate |
| Was never the type of nigga that flexed his weight |
| See, frontin just ain’t my forte, I’m all foreplay |
| Hoppin' out the porsche, drop products on graves |
| My slow grind story niggas cosign for me |
| Y’all slouch rappin' fake trash niggas' rhymes bore me |
| Adore me, respect niggas way before me |
| Since a shorty, in love wit big guns and orgies |
| Engaged to it, guzzlin' that beige fluid |
| Spazzin' like its the music that made me do it |
| Move through it if you that thorough, I’m certified |
| Through the grapevine, I know that niggas heard I’m live |
| Look, look, I be postered up like I’m toasted up nice |
| Stop niggas from gettin' killed, broken up fights |
| Blunted at the park jams, opened up mics |
| Now its on us, in the ??? |
| I focus on right |
| Its hardball, now niggas can’t call foul |
| Y’all can’t get wit me, I can’t fall now |
| Immune to the murderous plots |
| Been about it way before niggas heard I was hot |
| Heavy jewels, the type to keep the herb in the sock |
| A fresh pair, and I fuck wit them Germans a lot |
| Let’s play, pop bottles like its no tomorrow |
| Ricky Ricardo, the young black Leonardo |
| Part Spanish, my robe’ll make the dark vanish |
| Too complicated for y’all 85's, don’t understand it |
| Respect game, there’s rules as a criminal |
| So recognize I’m a five star general |
| You touchin' who |
| Yo, yo, at time its hard illin', it kinda scars the feelings |
| But what yall want from a game that’s involved in millions |
| Cars, and chillin', sex wit' they broads, but villain |
| It could find a broke man, have him harm civilians |
| Its like a larson and razor blades but robbers spinnin' |
| Niggas runnin' from court tryna dodge they sentence |
| The odds is endless, moms can’t calm the menace |
| Its like Saddam’s in us, comin' fully armed for business |
| Chrome pubelies, smoke great, two tone seventies |
| Five miles on the same line, the zone is deadly |
| Hope heaven got a ghetto for us |
| In the hood, for the hustlers that bled before us |
| Weep slow, soak in, feel the Schweppervesence |
| Specialize foot notes for the adolescents |
| Locked in, there’s beef in the game now |
| I know its deep but the streets know the name now |
| The war is on |