Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 12am in Atl, artist - Reason. Date of issue: 28.10.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
12am in Atl |
| Hey, uh-uh, Rashad, haha |
| It is rare shit, rare shit right here |
| Yeah-yeah |
| Look |
| Thoughts of hittin' licks still swimming 'round in my head (Ah) |
| School of pretty women swimming 'round in my bed |
| Picture perfect kings, capture that with my lens (Yeah) |
| Years of runnin' this game, shit I feel that in my legs, okay |
| Bitch, just keep your comments now you’re fuckin' with stars |
| Out your rabbit ass mind, you think you fuckin' with us |
| She can’t get on that bus until she signin' that clause (Hey) |
| Dope dick deposits, now she havin' withdrawals (Yeah, yeah, ah) |
| I’m thinking 'bout lazarus (Yeah) |
| Reborn, still jumpin' off the roof (Ah) |
| I’m thinking 'bout ashing it (Yeah) |
| Go head, what’s poppin', hoe? |
| (Yeah) |
| Pro head, I shop the hoe |
| Trashbags on my dick when I was twelve |
| That’s a hit hit, so you know where we been |
| (Still on that deep shit) |
| These niggas don’t want that close range |
| These niggas don’t want that crystal meth |
| These niggas might sell their aunties, mommy’s, papi, profit |
| I see they wonder 'bout what that harm do |
| They juggin' just to buy some new arms and new charms |
| Dirty boy, where you from? |
| The Butcher comin', nigga, uh |
| Doctor Kevorkian back, red ink, scorpion tat' |
| I hit the road with a Porsche, a brick, fork and a map |
| Stories 'bout your glory days, please, don’t bore me with that (I don’t wanna |
| hear that shit) |
| I’d rather be Allen Odden than Robert Howie, that’s fact (My legacy) |
| The coupe with the window cracked, rewindin' this instrumental back |
| Loud as fuck until the trunk pop up open and the windshield crack |
| And the AC blows, still make my hoes get in the back |
| 'Cause the passenger seat taken, bitch, that’s where the pistol at |
| Perkys got me aggravated, I’ma growl just like Oscar |
| Irritate me, I start shootin', I ain’t cappin', ask my momma (Boom-boom-boom) |
| Did my time like a gangsta, ain’t no rappin' ass imposter (Facts) |
| I was bunkies with a nigga who put a baby in a washer |
| Lockin' a sock under my pillow (Yeah) |
| I was livin' dead wrong (Yeah) |
| Now that Glock under my pilow (Brrr) |
| Nigga play get his head blown (Fool) |
| Nigga gangsta 'til his mans gone (Pussy ass nigga) |
| Studio thuggin', 'til my shooters come through shoot at his headphones (Oh, |
| really) |
| Yeah, look |
| Thoughts of hittin' licks still swimming 'round in my head (Ah) |
| School of pretty women swimming 'round in my bed |
| Picture perfect kings, capture that with my lens (Yeah) |
| Years of runnin' this game, shit I feel that in my legs, okay |
| Bitch, just keep your comments now you’re fuckin' with stars |
| Out your rabbit ass mind, you think you fuckin' with us |
| She can’t get on that bus until she signin' that clause (Hey) |
| Dope dick deposits, now she havin' withdrawals (Yeah, yeah, ah) |
| Yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah, okay |
| The bud’s a cigarettes with the Glock tucked in a bucket |
| My wallet LeToya Luckett, C-notes, singin' in public |
| I done changed, I done changed, but who the fuck said I wasn’t? |
| So now it’s fuck niggas, I’m uncle Rucket (Fuck 'em) |
| What you expectin' to the ones I’m closest with, I’m still the same nigga |
| To these rap niggas, look I’m a grave digger (Yeah), short temper, fade quicker |
| Male housekeeper, look I’m a made nigga (Hahaha) |
| REAS' the new leader of this rap shit, I’m brandin' that |
| Been top of West like MAGA hats |
| Held my city down so they key later I’ll be handed that |
| Done brought the panic back, I run with killers, scholars, dealers, roobers, |
| wild and friend packs |
| Some of 'em businessmans (Yeah, yeah), some got in on they hips like fanny |
| packs (Yeah, yeah, yeah) |
| I don’t judge, it’s all love, long as shit right with me |
| Some of you bad postured nigga, don’t sit right with me |
| Words loud but live quiet, kept it honest, kept it solid |
| Treat my word like my neighbor, swear to God I live by it |
| Thoughts of hittin' licks still swimming 'round in my head |