Young Roddy Feat. Curren$y & Smoke DZA - After Hours

Lyrics

Trynna drink away my pain, that made me throw up (throw up)
They shot my nigga in the back, that made him slow up (slow up)
Might let my bitch drive while I roll up
My brother fighting a charge but we don't fold up (we don't fold up)
My girl say she scared for me, I just tell her pray for me (amen)
OG had to pay the lawyer fees with cocaine money
Forty years flat, two of my niggas got the same number
Heart turned cold, damn look at what the game done ya
Might cop the Wraith, the double Rs on the headrests
For mama because she worked too hard, the doc said she needs bedrest
Really from the hood, I take you spots where they be spraying at
Where I lost my mans at, sold my first grams at
Them goons get the drop on your spot and it get ransacked
Fresh up out the gutter where they shootin and throwing hands at
Crabs in a barrel, never let them fuck your plans up
Mother fuck the cops, them crackers shooting us with our hands up

Dope boy, might just pull up on you in a Lamb truck
Rule 1, if you get caught, don't give your mans up
We don't play no zones around this bitch, ya gotta man up
Ball like I'm Bradley Beal on a bitch, and one
Gun smoke, cocaine, that's the shit we came from
Learned from my pop mistakes, try not to make the same one
Never wife a bitch, them hoes will leave you when the rain come
When them chopper bullets rain, it'll stain something

Fuck around and I aim at your kingdom
Niggas ain't dumb
Look, they tried to pass it off to them other niggas, we ain't them
Real niggas rep around the globe where we came from
Route sent a kite, I'm like say when'
He knows his nigga DZA get it shaking like a paint can
Know some niggas hating on the net through on their fake grams
Really they be pussy and they really be confused cuz they fans
Pardon the fallen, pardon me darling
I ball, I belong in the Barclay, the Garden
The Harlem bred, they aren't us
This thing of ours belong to us, it's all in trust,
Chronic and foreign trucks
With all the feats, all our retreats
Jewelry, expensive feets
Women wearing the least
Pose another selfie for the freaks
Rollin up the hottest thing smoking in the streets

Dope boy, might just pull up on you in a Lamb truck
Rule 1, if you get caught, don't give your mans up
We don't play no zones around this bitch, ya gotta man up
Ball like I'm Bradley Beal on a bitch, and one
Gun smoke, cocaine, that's the shit we came from
Learned from my pop mistakes, try not to make the same one
Never wife a bitch, them hoes will leave you when the rain come
When them chopper bullets rain, it'll stain something

Tires wet like they black glass
Trunk in the front, motor in back, you know it's fast
I could teach a class, but that's too much game
For me to lands two semesters, you'll need so many life lessons
You'll need to sit down for so many sessions
Them losses that I took was really blessings
Above my shoulder is my sharpest weapon
Like a Smith and Wesson killing beats and bring them checks in
I done turned into a bill collector
I bought a office space, I'm waiting on the building inspector
Get these permits, these licenses, then it's back to balling out and buying shit
Always knew I'd be rich, ain't know which woman I would end up with
Player for life, bitch I'd never quit
And on my Tre first homeboys I would never switch up
That's that sucka stuff, that's not for us
I hit Rolls Royce dealer, got a coupe and a truck
Eat my dust

Dope boy, might just pull up on you in a Lamb truck
Rule 1, if you get caught, don't give your mans up
We don't play no zones around this bitch, ya gotta man up
Ball like I'm Bradley Beal on a bitch, and one
Gun smoke, cocaine, that's the shit we came from
Learned from my pop mistakes, try not to make the same one
Never wife a bitch, them hoes will leave you when the rain come
When them chopper bullets rain, it'll stain something