| Uhh. |
| Welcome to paradise
|
| Paper planes, long flights
|
| Welcome to the life
|
| Destinies fulfilled off the filling from the pillow talking
|
| How you killing my highs, I hope you built the coffin
|
| I got virgin lungs please excuse the coughing
|
| Think I’m bout to blow, they call me George from Boston
|
| Respect is never given so I confiscate it
|
| Get acquainted with mine I get them acclimated
|
| Cherry red dice I’m a gambling man I’m never taking twice
|
| Had to escape the life
|
| This ain’t for ordinary people, don’t compare me to rappers
|
| I’m trying to be like The Beatles,
|
| Give me some soul money, niggers is gassed up
|
| Tell them to keep it running, I’m keeping the grass cut
|
| No snakes, royalty hating niggers don’t get no pussy
|
| So it’s more for me, she invited me in her mouth
|
| You know it’s cordially, we throwin' racks,
|
| she said please don’t talk to me
|
| All my niggers is winning, shout out to Charlie Sheen
|
| I spit bars the metronome’s a money machine
|
| A money machine, of course I’m trying to be the king
|
| that was part of my dream
|
| And wale told me fuck y’all so we fuck yall, we don’t love y’all
|
| Loud B.O.T. |
| above y’all, patron at 4 am, fuck the last call
|
| We aint heard of that, and we aint hear of y’all
|
| Doggin, Hard listen, mean muggin for when niggas don’t
|
| see their C’s til they see the judges
|
| Dark side of town, baby mama blues,
|
| When drama ensues niggers Ndomakong Suh
|
| Old lyin ass defensive as boys,
|
| Why you knock that bitch up if you cant tend it out boy
|
| I’m a tenant my opinion is monumental
|
| I’m here forever, these other niggers scribble in pencil
|
| Got indelible colors, only look when they’re buzzing
|
| I’m at Dallas with luggage flyin straight to the money
|
| And you don’t understand my slang my colloquial is lovely
|
| So they quote me and love me like I’m a poet or something
|
| Hoe I kick it, I punt it like Reggie Roby or something
|
| Shady bitches’ll feel me, Reggie Smokers disgust me
|
| Make the least of you haters, make the most of your money
|
| Have that consistent drive long as your motor’s running
|
| I used to heat up mama house by opening ovens
|
| Now mama see that shit on Oprah and know that it’s coming
|
| That’s real shit, it’s bigger than rap,
|
| my n-gga Cole busy, but genius is back
|
| I light up my spliff take a sip of my yack
|
| Thinking back of when the city weren’t thinking of rap
|
| They weren’t thinking of rap, they weren’t giving a f-ck
|
| Now everywhere I go they be giving it up
|
| I seen it all from Barry Farms to Sursum Corders
|
| They had that rocking like a Park that’s word to Mike Shinoda
|
| Shout out to captain Ginnny and free my n-gga Ricky
|
| We always pray for polo, we miss you little Penny
|
| We skip college, chase dollars and black pennies
|
| Not in the kingdom of Zamunda but it’s mad semi’s
|
| Where bad bitches with bad intentions just act friendly
|
| This where they love you then they hate you, go and ask Fifty
|
| Yeah, go and ask fifty
|
| They love you then they hate you, go and ask fifty
|
| Go and ask fenty, hating ass n-gga, sweeter than sibling
|
| Who got the juice n-gga?
|
| juice n-gga,
|
| juice n-gga,
|
| My… dont keep it deuce nigga
|
| work, work, work, work, work. |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song 4 Am , by - Wale. Song from the album Live from the Dmv, Vol. 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп