paroles de chanson / YoungBoy Never Broke Again parole / Bad Morning lyrics  | ENin English

Paroles de Bad Morning

Interprète YoungBoy Never Broke Again

Paroles de la chanson Bad Morning par YoungBoy Never Broke Again lyrics officiel

Bad Morning est une chanson en Anglais

(I need to talk to Mike Laury
Yeah, you got Mike Laury)
(Dubba-AA flex)
"Winning lottery numbers coming up"

I can't quit, at all, at all
I ain't hurt (I ain't hurt, nigga), at all, at all
On my soul, at all, at all
Stay the same as my pain grow
Ridin' 'round with my bros (this is the sound)

Ridin' in the Maybach, let's go
Ten M's up, nigga, let's go
He a dreadhead, mm-hmm
My bro leave him dead in front that store
On three different drugs tryna take away my pain
But it's still gon' flow
Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans
But he still can't cope

On the highway, out the window do some'
Get in my way, bam-bam, shoot some'
He a head hunter, rude bwoy trust nothin'
She got a nice round bum, but can't pay her nothin'
Do a hit real sick, it be cold the whole summer
I can't figure how she comin', I'ma give her to my mama
In a minute I'ma cut a nigga, knowin' I'm a slime him
Everything go bad, you can trust him, still time him
Niggas steady rappin', we be shootin' at the bitch
Sound of the stick goin', "Boom" when it hit
Sound of the smoke, real loud when it's lit
Still let it off with a crowd in the midst
Black car, matte stick, I'm it
Don't pick die, if you try one trick
Right gang, but she say, "Wrong bitch"
Young rich nigga, he done took the wrong fix
Overdose, can't shake back, no
Harbor freight, get the jack from the sto'
White trace, that's a whole lotta snow
Ridin', bumpin' Kirk with a .30 and a pole
With a young bitch, she don't want me, it's vivid
But I don't need her hand when I'm runnin' up Benji's
Real deal business, this real blood business
Really spill those, dead bodies in the trenches
Real slime, they was my partner for a minute
Contract from my brother when them hollows got up in it
Dodgin' bullets in the car when them shottas sent them in it
All praise to Allah, one was dead, less than sixty
We gon' burn them forensincs, leave 'em dead if he missed it
Should have aimed when you shot it, don't fuck with my bodies
I'ma foreign my engine, take luxury narcotics
While they cookin' I'm watchin', die protectin' that body
Through the house the aroma, it cover the closet
I don't say that ain't it, but I still want cop it
I'ma flood out this bitch to whoever come cop it
Police ran in this bitch, no one say nothin' about it
I ain't got nothin' I wanna do better with my life
But take narcotics with my life
Collect these bodies, with your life, send it to the Most Highest
Nigga showin' off, got it took when he got it
Nigga ran off, tell me what you do 'bout it?
You don't know off the dome shit, can't write
With the Glock when you see the kid, on sight
Bullets start playin' 'round with 'tention, got focused
Got another pack rolled up, he gon' smoke it
Ten grand, twenty grand, all night scope it
We're up all day high, we're up all day slow

I can't quit, at all, at all
I ain't hurt, at all, at all
On my soul, at all, at all
Stay the same as my pain grow
Ridin' 'round with my bros

Ridin' in the Maybach, let's go
Ten M's up, nigga, let's go
He a dreadhead, mm-hmm
My bro leave him dead in front that store
On three different drugs tryna take away my pain
But it's still gon' flow
Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans
But he still can't cope

Heard him steady talkin' 'bout, "Top, just let me shoot him", no
I can't teach a nigga shit, I can make it out him
I ain't need no tutor, been advanced for the road
Doped up, two or three tools doin' shows
Forty on my teeth and two hunnid for my pole
Three hunnid for my car, extra sneaze for the nose
I be runnin' to the money soon as it reach my phone
I ain't got nothin' I wanna do better with my life
But take narcotics with my life
Collect these bodies, with your life, send it to the Most Highest
Nigga showin' off, got it took when he got it
Nigga ran off, tell me what you do 'bout it?
You don't know off the dome shit, can't write
With the Glock when you see the kid, on sight

I can't quit (quit), at all, at all
I ain't hurt (I ain't hurt), at all, at all
On my soul, at all, at all
Stay the same as my pain grow
Ridin' 'round with my bros

Ridin' in the Maybach, let's go
Ten M's up, nigga, let's go
He a dreadhead, mm-hmm
My bro leave him dead in front that store (this is the sound)
On three different drugs tryna take away my pain
But it's still gon' flow
Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans
But he still can't cope
Droits parole : paroles officielles sous licence Lyricfind respectant le droit d'auteur.
Reproduction des paroles interdite sans autorisation.
Auteurs: Aaron Lockhart, Kentrell Gaulden, Michael Laury, William Golden Mosley Jr.
Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Songtrust Ave, Ultra Tunes

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