song lyrics / It's Midnight / Scary Night lyrics  | FRen Français

Scary Night lyrics

Performers It's MidnightAux Dior

Scary Night song lyrics by It's Midnight official

Scary Night is a song in English

I got clean Prada
Thieves robbers
Dreams scholars
None of that shit boy it gets you whacked
Off em
Things blossom
Beams choppas
Running through the streets it’s gone get hot

Collars
Dame dollas
Big ballers
Stuffing all the guap right in the bank
Problem
He caused it
I domed him
Talking too much boy you get the scrap

It’s a scary night
In the moonlight
Baby why you pulling up with no invite
Yea I don’t like
What you tryna hide
Fuck love baby I’m just tryna vibe

Ion wanna fight
Wanna live my life
It’s Part of the picture got my heart right
And I’m feeling nice
With a couple ice
Fuck love baby it’s a scary night

I got clean Prada
Thieves robbers
Dreams scholars
None of that shit boy it gets you whacked
Off em
Things blossom
Beams choppas
Running through the streets it’s gone get hot

Collars
Dame dollas
Big ballers
Stuffing all the guap right in the bank
Problem
He caused it
I domed him
Talking too much boy you get the scrap

I get the bag forreal
Shawty on me she bad forreal
I get the cash a mill
Two twin glocks like jack and Jill

I’m the man of the year
Schoolboy Q no hands on wheel
I’m the man of the year
Big dawg I ain’t here to kill

I got clean Prada
Thieves robbers
Dreams scholars
None of that shit boy it gets you whacked
Off em
Things blossom
Beams choppas
Running through the streets it’s gone get hot

Collars
Dame dollas
Big ballers
Stuffing all the guap right in the bank
Problem
He caused it
I domed him
Talking too much boy you get the strap

Smoking loud dope
Yo bitch love how it sound
I came from the dirt
Nigga you could die from hanging around
I got two bowls on the counter but I ain’t cooking out
Bitch I love the money counter with them racks I’ll treat you out

I ain’t them other niggas you play with don’t play with me
I got a trunk up in the front bitch you could take your bags and leave
I be in New York with the oodles yeah they call your boy a sleeze
And they’ll slime a nigga out for quick cash without a sneeze

I got clean Prada
Thieves robbers
Dreams scholars
None of that shit boy it gets you whacked
Off em
Things blossom
Beams choppas
Running through the streets it’s gone get hot

Collars
Dame dollas
Big ballers
Stuffing all the guap right in the bank
Problem
He caused it
I domed him
Talking too much boy you get the scrap
Lyrics copyright : legal lyrics licensed by Lyricfind.
No unauthorized reproduction of lyric.
Writer: Ethan Frahm
Copyright: Too Lost LLC

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