| I wake up in the morning
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| Pull them panties to the side
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| And I’m twistin up that Cali
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| Cause you know I stay high
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| For my bitch to count my dough
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| Wake up in the morning
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| For my bitch she fuck me back
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| After I nut she clean it up and the we count a stack
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| If you were around the corner
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| You could probably hear her moaning
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| I wake the neighbors up
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| Cause I fucking every morning
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| I’m a mutha fuckin gangsta
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| Got some straps up in the closet
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| In these streets is beef
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| So I keep the duce in my pocket
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| Even tho I’m on probation
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| Keep the blunt in rotation
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| Smoking some fire
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| Got it from my connect and he Jamaican
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| I’m just tryin to make a dolla outta 15 cents
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| So I hit the block
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| And straight pimp me a bitch, uh
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| My daddy told me nigga get it how you live
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| So it’s Money over bitches
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| Nigga that’s just what it is
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| Keepin it G til I die
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| To these bitches I lie
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| Walk out the mall
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| Looking so flyyyyyy
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| All I know my bank account
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| Got long ass digits
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| California weed
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| Counting cheese
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| Fuckin bad bitches
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| I wake up in the morning
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| Pull them panties to the side
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| And I’m twistin up that Cali
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| Cause you know I stay high
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| For my bitch to count my dough
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| I’m tired talkin early morning fucking
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| Bed side sucking
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| Why you turnin on ya oven
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| I was pullin out and bustin on her
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| Back never in her cat
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| Never in between
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| If you gotta
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| Superbad bitch like mine
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| Shawty know what I mean
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| I’m talking slob on my nob like a pro
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| Zonin… blowing
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| She might never let it got
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| On the low
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| She’s a very freaky girl
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| Don’t say no to daddy
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| She get wet when I swang
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| Dump it in my Cadi
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| She built like a thoroughbred
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| Ride like a glass house
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| Push on the pillow
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| She shake and shiver
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| And mad shy
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| Breakfast and champagne
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| Band and ass and titties
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| Kush and orange juice
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| Serving up and hella pimpin
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| I wake up in the morning
|
| Pull them panties to the side
|
| And I’m twisting up that Cali
|
| Cause you know I stay high
|
| For my bitch to count my dough
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| Yea I wake up with hard dick
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| And the bitch you was dreaming about
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| She wake up to the realest nigga
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| That all of these hoes is dreaming about
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| I walk in the bank, I’m cleaning it out
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| Jewelry store I’m gleaming it out
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| I’m smacking these hoes
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| And then in skeet on their blouse
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| You keep your own homes
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| I’m just leasing them out
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| WESTSIDE!
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| And I don’t mean the fuckin coast
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| She screaming B.I.G
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| But it ain’t no fuckin ghost
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| The hoes that turned you down
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| Is the ones I fuck the most
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| I’m burning all this bread
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| So we might as well fuckin toast
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| Man these niggas looking at me
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| Like they hoes or something
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| Ya’ll are barely touching green
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| Ya’ll are holes in one
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| These niggas is hoeing cause
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| Damnit life’s a slut
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| But I bust a nut
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| And it’s no wonder why all
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| These niggas look like my oldest son
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| Too me say it ain’t
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| And that ghetto ass dealer man
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| Lighting purple haze you would of thought
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| I was chillin with Killa Cam
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| Goin around and around
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| And around and around
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| This shit it feelin like ceiling flans
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| I feel the hands feelin in my pants
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| Like «shut the fuck up hoe
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| And get in this van»,
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| I wake up
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| I wake up in the morning
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| Pull them panties to the side
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| And I’m twistin up that Cali
|
| Cause you know I stay high
|
| For my bitch to count my dough |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song In the Mornin , by - YG. Song from the album Just Re'd Up, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп